


Case Blue

by Acidqueen



Category: Tom Clancy's The Division
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 124,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidqueen/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: Amanda Collier just wants to heal people; it's why she became a doctor. It's also why she created ISAC. But can she help heal a fractured nation--and her family--after the Green Poison has torn it apart?
Relationships: Amanda Collier (OC Division Agent)/Aaron Keener, Amanda Collier (OC Division Agent)/Andrew Ellis, Manny Ortega/Alani Kelso
Comments: 27
Kudos: 11





	1. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Amanda Collier created ISAC to assist with medical research. But the Division has other ideas for him...and an offer for her.

**Chico’s Deli  
** **Annapolis, MD  
** **May, 2005**

Amanda Collier smiled as the server set a large plate of fries in front of her along with two Cokes. “Where’s your Marine?” the server, an older woman with short auburn hair touched with a random grey strand or three winked, her ruddy cheeks turning her hazel eyes into twinkling half-moons as she grinned. Amanda laughed and brushed her dark brown hair from her shoulders before tying it back in a loose ponytail that trailed down the back of her pale blue sundress.

“Oh, he’ll be along,” she said. “It’s just us today, Lee--Dad and LJ are back at the house to get everything ready for the mid-summer barbecue.”

“I bet you’re so proud of your boy,” Lee patted Amanda on the shoulder. “Will he be close to home?” The two had known each other since Amanda started coming to the eatery in high school, just after her father was appointed Superintendent of the Naval Academy.

“We are indeed very proud of him,” Amanda replied with a wide smile. “He ships out for his official posting in a month, but until then he’ll be in the geological section at Pax River.” She leaned over and added, “I think his father had something to do with that, but don’t quote me.” Amanda wrinkled up her nose. “He knows LJ wouldn’t be happy.”

“I solemnly swear that I did not request any favours for our son,” Andrew quipped as he slid into the seat next to Amanda and gave her a kiss. “Hi Lee,” He said with a smile at the server. She smiled back at Andrew, and headed over to see her next table. Andrew kissed Amanda again. “Happy Fry-Date,” he said.  
  
“Happy Fry-Date.” Amanda smiled and brushed back a stray lock of Andrew’s silver-streaked red hair before taking a sip from her Coke. “And I’m relieved that you didn’t do anything to grease the skids for LJ.”

Andrew waggled his eyebrows. “You did not marry a fool, as your father once told mine.” He took a sip from his own drink. “The Navy needed a place to put our boy before he deployed, and LJ requested Pax River so he could rockhound and feed terrapins in an official capacity.”

“Well that’s okay then.” Amanda chuckled and gave Andrew an impish smirk. “Didn’t my dad say that to Ike right before drop-kicking him out of his office?”

Andrew rolled his eyes in mock displeasure. “Oh yes, tales are still told at the Pentagon of that legendary clash of the titans.” He leaned over and gave Amanda a kiss. “I love you, my beautiful genius.”

“I love you too, my handsome Marine,” she answered as she returned the kiss. They smiled and kissed each other again. “Dad is looking forward to beating you again at nine-ball tonight, by the way.”

They had divorced when their son was in middle school. John Collier’s reputation as an Admiral whose relationship with certain legislators was contentious at the best of times threatened to jeopardize Andrew’s budding political career in a district that the Party could ill-afford to lose, and he and Amanda very reluctantly agreed to end the marriage for the sake of politics. After the split, they remained close and tried to provide as normal a life for their son as possible; Alternating weekends with Andrew when Congress was in session, one month with him each summer when it wasn’t, and holidays together. Amanda ran Andrew’s campaigns for the House, and they still celebrated their anniversary--their “Fry-Date”.

“I see that some eager young Midshipman tried a few times to beat your record,” Andrew quipped. On the board, _LJ_ was written under _Mandy C._ three separate times. The best attempt of the three showed a time of 31 minutes 10 seconds. 

Amanda chuckled. “He never told me he was going to try beating my time--that little stinker! I’m still amazed that 19-year old me was able to pack away a three-pound burger, a Super Shake, and a pound of fries in twenty-eight minutes.”

“And all to get a date with some red-headed Marine midshipman,” Andrew jibed. He popped a fry in his mouth and munched on it, then washed it down with a swig from his Coke. 

“As I recall, that midshipman was trying to beat my record to get a date with me.” Amanda winked. “And he didn’t even have to do it, because I still asked him out.” The two of them chuckled at the memory before Amanda changed the subject. “So, that letter that came to the house the other day. How serious is it?”

“Pretty serious,” Andrew replied. “And there’s a reason why it didn’t give details.” He gave Amanda a meaningful look.

“Ah, one of those “burn after reading” things. That explains why it was delivered by a Secret Service agent.” Amanda nodded slowly and picked up three fries, which she popped in her mouth with a dollop of mayo. “Hmm.” She chewed and swallowed. “So they want me there two weeks from now?”

“Mmhmm.” Andrew took another drink and sighed. “It’s a formality, but this _is_ your life’s work that we’re talking about. You deserve the respect of getting a say in what happens.”

  
  
  


**Joint Strategic Homeland Defense Committee (Secret)  
** **Washington, DC  
** **June, 2005**

The chairman of the secret joint committee asked, “Do you solemnly swear upon your Ancestors to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” Amanda Collier stared back at the committee chair, who had until a few years ago been her husband. After a moment, she gave him a slight smile.

“You may be seated.” Andrew Ellis smiled at his ex-wife. “For the record, please state your name and what you do for a living.”

Amanda put her hand down and sat. She pulled the microphone on the table toward her as she straightened up in her seat. She wore a smart navy-blue suit with a pair of her white work sneakers for the occasion, paired with a brightly-coloured beaded choker. “My name,” she stated as she poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, “is Amanda Lauren Talulah Collier.” Her long dark brown hair was pulled back and held in place by a large tortoiseshell barrette adorned with a gold feather--a gift from Andrew’s mother. “I am a researcher in the fields of neuroscience, neurology, artificial intelligence and cybernetics. I’m also a family practice physician in West Baltimore, Maryland, and occasionally I guest-lecture at Columbia and Johns Hopkins. Every summer, I run travelling clinics for underserved people in Oklahoma.” She took a sip and looked up at Andrew. 

“My colleagues on this Committee aren’t as well-versed on your educational history as I am, Doctor Collier,” Andrew remarked, “so if you could please do us the honour of adding that in, we would appreciate it.” He shifted his red silk tie, pausing a moment to run a finger over his gold and enamel eagle tie-tack, a handmade gift from their son, Johnathan. 

Amanda nodded and took another drink of water, then cleared her throat. “My undergrad studies in Computer Science and Biology were at University of Maryland Baltimore College. I have masters degrees in Computer Science, Computer Networking, and Neuroscience from North Carolina State University, an M.D. from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. My post-grad studies brought me a Ph.D in Cybernetics and Neural Networks from University of Minnesota Twin Cities, a Ph.D in Neuroscience from Duke University, and a Ph.D in Neurolinguistics from the California Institute of Technology. Officially my medical specialty is Neurology, but I take a rather Heinleinian view when it comes to medicine.”

“And that is?” A stout grey-haired man in a tan three-piece suit about two spaces to Andrew’s right leaned forward. _Sen. Waller - NY_ was embossed on the nameplate in front of him. “For the record.” _A few too many three-martini lunches_ , Amanda noted to herself. _Needs to talk to a dermatologist about rosacea treatments._ She also noted his fingernails. _Faintly bluish, clubbed...sweating despite it being sixty-five degrees...early stages of cardiovascular disease. Forget dermatology, get him a referral to a cardiologist._

Amanda looked to the Senator and smiled. “Specialization is for insects, Senator.” She took another sip from her water. “Any more information you need from me about my background, Mr. Chairman?” She winked as she drained the glass.

“No,” Andrew quipped, “I believe that should suffice. So that we’re all on the same page here, this meeting is about ISAC.”

Amanda set her jaw. She and Andrew had discussed this a few weeks before, on the day of their son’s graduation from the Naval Academy. “Ah yes,” she replied firmly. “The Integrated System Analytic Computer.” She cleared her throat. “ISAC is designed to be a research aid. Computer modelling, data analysis, simulations, that sort of thing. I designed him for the purpose of science; medicine, specifically. ISAC will negate the need for most animal testing, and through detailed data modelling can help shorten clinical trials by weeks if not months so that patients can get life-saving treatment sooner. Scientists around the world can access up-to-the-minute data using ISAC, without having to scour through petabytes of research journals and papers or waiting for somebody to unearth notes that got buried in a library somewhere.” She sighed heavily. “And you want to take him away from me.”

A thin middle-aged man with a pinched ratlike face and a dark comb over snorted. The plate at his seat read _Sen. Richards - TX_ “You make it--”

Amanda shot a look at Senator Richards. “ _Him_ ,” she corrected pointedly. “And before you finish that statement, Kenton, I will note-- _for the record--_ that with as much time as I spent working on ISAC, I effectively did raise a second child.”

Andrew loudly cleared his throat, directed a pointed look at his colleague, and Senator Richards pursed his lips for a moment before continuing.

“Doctor Collier,” Richards went on in a lazy North Texas drawl, “I understand that ISAC means a great deal to you. But you have other responsibilities; you said so yourself. I mean, surely running a free clinic in a crime-ridde--”

 _“_ Senator,” Andrew cautioned, “I wou--”

Amanda stood and put up a hand toward her ex. “Andrew,” she said. Her voice was soft, but at just the right pitch that it cut through the buzz of the legislators murmuring to aides and each other. The room fell silent, and all eyes focused on the dark-haired woman in the navy suit whose green eyes now burned with ire. “I’ve got this.” She looked at Senator Richards and snarled, “You can disrespect me all you want, _Senator_ , but don’t you _dare_ disrespect the hardworking people of West Baltimore. My patients aren’t even a part of this discussion. We are talking about _ISAC_.”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, resting the palms of her hands on the table. “So let’s cut to the chase: I have a pretty good idea what your plans are for ISAC, based on his capabilities and the name of this Committee. You want to use my work for some secret subset of the Department of Homeland Security.”

She straightened up as she saw the expressions on several faces change. “So this _is_ about wanting to use my work for a black project. Okay then.” Amanda crossed her arms. “And what would I get in return for _allowing_ you to have ISAC--and don’t give me that “grateful nation” spiel, because we all know that’s a bunch of bullshit.”

Andrew sat back in his chair and calmly sipped at a glass of water as an older woman in a red pantsuit leaned forward.

“Doctor Collier,” the woman said in a saccharine Southern drawl, looking over her glasses at Amanda, “This is not a negotiation.” She gave Amanda a perturbed look. The combination of bluish-grey curls, pale sharp-featured complexion set off with bright red lipstick slathered on her pursed lips, and 50s-era glasses gave the woman the appearance of a disapproving schoolmarm.

“Blood in the water,” Andrew whispered to a Representative seated next to him.

Amanda raised an eyebrow and shot a look over at the woman. “Ah, Representative Fox from the 5th District of North Carolina,” she read from the nameplate. “Madame, I am well aware that this is not a negotiation. Rather, it is a transaction. That is why I am asking what recompense I will receive for _allowing_ my work to be co-opted for some black project.” Amanda regarded the representative with a feral grin. “Of course, given your voting record and the speeches you’ve made on the House floor regarding the plurality of your constituents, it’s clear that education has eluded you in addition to your sense of equity and your compassion.” Her voice abruptly changed from the Mid-Atlantic accent she’d been using to the soft twang of her summers with her Aunt in Oklahoma. “So if I need to dumb it down so that even _your_ paleface country-cracker ass can understand, please let me know so I can break out the crayons and letter-blocks.”

Andrew stifled a snort at Amanda’s pointed barbs. He knew Amanda better than anyone else in the room, and trying to best her in a war of words was suicide. He also knew that he had to intervene before this _pro forma_ hearing turned into a verbal bloodbath. He cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat with two sharp raps of his gavel. “Ladies,” he said, “let’s bring this meeting back to order shall we? Doctor Collier understands why the President invoked the Defense Production Act to compel her to part with ISAC, even if she doesn’t like it. Doctor Collier, I must ask you to put the knives away.” 

After a pause, Andrew addressed his ex-wife directly. “Now then. I know how much ISAC means to you, Doctor. You’ve been working on him since our son was in the third grade, and I know that this subject is intensely personal to you. However, you also know that ISAC is something that this country needs--whether he’s with the DCD, NIH, or the Strategic Homeland Division. You’ve done far more in your spare time over the last fifteen years than the best minds at DARPA have been able to do in 40-plus-hour work weeks, and that’s drawn a great deal of notice. So I must ask, for the record: will you comply with the President’s directive and…” he chose his next words very carefully. “... _allow_ the Strategic Homeland Division to have custody of ISAC?”

Amanda took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she clenched her fists so hard her knuckles cracked. After several seconds, she opened her eyes and looked straight at the Speaker of the House. “I will surrender ISAC _only_ if I’m involved in his transfer and installation. That is absolutely not negotiable. Any attempts to take ISAC without me being involved aren’t going to end well.”

Andrew banged his gavel again to silence the sudden roar of competing outraged voices from the rest of the Committee. “This Committee will come to order!” The room quieted down, and Andrew remained standing. “Thank you, Doctor Collier. The Division will be in contact with you within the next three weeks to make the arrangements. I’ll make certain that their representative knows better than to keep you out of the loop.” He took a deep breath and continued, “On a personal note Amanda, I know that this isn’t easy for you. Thank you for your understanding, and for taking time away from your patients to come here today.” After a few seconds, he added, “This meeting is adjourned.”

  
  
  
  


**Collier Residence  
** **Annapolis, MD  
** **Two weeks later**

“I’ll get it,” Johnathan called out when he heard the knock. He put down the knife he had in his hands, and headed to the front door. He opened it to see a solidly-built Asian man a few years older than he, wearing a dark blue suit and holding a leather-covered folio in his hands. The man had a crew-cut like Johnathan’s, and carried himself like an athlete. “May I help you?”

The stranger smiled at the tall brown-skinned man in front of him. “Hi there...is Dr. Collier at home?” His voice was a smooth baritone cut with a slight rasp.

“May I ask who you are?” Johnathan was hardly a giant at six feet even, but he was a half-head taller than the man at the door. He raised an eyebrow. “Mom usually takes requests for new appointments at her office,” Johnathan said.

The man with the folio smiled. “You must be Johnathan," he said, ignoring the question. "Congratulations on your recent appointment. But I really do need to talk to Dr. Collier if she’s home.”

“LJ, who is it?” Amanda padded barefoot down the front hallway in a pair of lounge pants and baggy t-shirt. Unlike the meeting two weeks before, her hair was hanging loose. Amanda gave her son a gentle pat on the left shoulder, and he moved to one side. “Ah, Louis Chang--I was expecting you. Come on in.” She looked up at LJ. “He’s here about ISAC,” she explained.

“Ah right, that thing that you can’t give me any details about.” LJ ran a hand through his dark crew-cut and sighed. “Welp, I’ll just get back to dinner prep.” He looked at his mother and softly asked, “You going to be okay?”

Amanda nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” She looked to the man with the folio. “Care for a drink, Louis? We’ve got water, tea--sweet or unsweet, take your pick--coffee, milk....” She saw him shake his head, and shrugged before walking into the kitchen to get herself a refillable bottle of semi-sweet tea from the fridge. “Suit yourself,” she said. “Come on, we can sit in the Library.” The two of them walked through the house. “Did you have any trouble finding the house?”

“No,” the man with the folio said. He noted photos on the walls of Amanda, her son, and other family members including Andrew Ellis and his mother Letitia. “I don’t see Speaker Ellis’ father in any of these,” he remarked.

“Oh Ancestors, let me tell you...Ike Ellis hated me,” Amanda replied as they walked into the library. “Said I “wasn’t good enough” to marry his son. Of course, he really just hated Dad for refusing to put up with Ike’s bullshit--that hatred just carried over to me.” She looked back over his shoulder. “All because we weren’t white enough for him. It really stuck in his craw that a half-Chahta enlisted son of a Wobblie managed to rise through the ranks and become not just a full Admiral, but the Superintendent of the US Naval Academy. And when he found out that his only son was dating that Admiral’s daughter? Hoo boy.” She shook her head. “Letty got him to pipe down, but Ike kept trying to set Andrew up with this or that little WASPy debutante right up until the day we got married. At least the bastard corked off before Dad became Commander of the 2nd Fleet.” 

Amanda settled into a seat at her desk and opened the bottle of tea. She took a drink and continued, “But you didn’t come here to talk about the human members of the Collier-Ellis family. You came to talk about ISAC.”

“Yes,” Louis replied with a chuckle. “I’m guessing that ISAC isn’t just a program on a disk that you can hand to me.” He saw the look on Amanda’s face and hurriedly added, “Not that I expect you to just do that, of course.”

Amanda laughed. “I can give you a disk with a basic operating system on it and a frontend, sure--but yes; there’s way more to my second child than that.” She reached up to a bookshelf and pulled down a scroll of large-format paper. “Here,” she said as she carried the scroll to the map table. “Help me unroll this bad boy.” 

Louis stood up and helped Amanda unroll an enormous systems diagram, weighing it down on his end with a couple of paperweights that Amanda passed him. He looked at one of them--it was a heavy Lucite trophy with a medallion embedded in it. “Is this a Wolf Prize?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Amanda replied. “For my work in the treatment of MS. I used the prize money to send the kids of a few of my patients to college. A couple of them are now in med school.” She smiled. “That was what really mattered to me--but the prize itself?” She shrugged. “Eh, it makes a nice bookend I guess.” She looked down at the unrolled print. “Okay, so: this is a plot of what will be ISAC’s main node cluster once you get him installed at DARPA--I’m presuming that’s where you’ll have him. I took the liberty of printing this out,” she explained, “because if I am giving my youngest child up to strangers, I want to make sure that he’ll be properly housed and cared for. ISAC is designed to use IPv6 technology, so you don’t have to worry about address space for his network nodes. He also has a full vocabulary in fifty different major languages, complete with lexical cross-references and access to contemporary literature in those languages so that he can have a conversation without sounding stilted. And that’s just the start. I’ve got plots for redundant networking architecture, satellite communication...”

“Wow.” Louis blinked several times. “How’d you get all of this to work?” He looked around the Library. “I don’t exactly see a supercomputer lying around here.”

Amanda winked. “I leased time on the BlueGene/L at Lawrence Livermore after I did some initial testing on ISAC’s codebase at Johns Hopkins,” she said. “I had a friend at Lawrence that owed me a favour.” She sighed heavily. “ISAC was really LJ’s idea though,” she said as she nodded in the direction of the kitchen. ”He’d read _Colossus_ when he was 8, and the idea of AIs that take over the world really bothered him. He asked me why nobody ever thought of an AI that would help humans make decisions by providing them with information, rather than humans asking the AI to make decisions for them.”

“Did you tell him about _The Moon is a Harsh Mistress_?”

“Oh yes,” Amanda laughed, “And he was very quick to point out to me that Mike doesn’t survive the end of the book. The challenge with designing ISAC was making everything work with currently-available technology, so of course I’ve had to revisit the design every six months or so to update things.” She ran a hand over the plot. “It really was like raising a second child.” Her voice caught, and she tried to cover it up with a sigh.

“It’s clear that ISAC really means a lot to you,” her visitor said. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I heard the Committee meeting got a little contentious.”

Amanda nodded, a sad half-smile on her face. “Yeah. Andrew cut it short before I got a chance to verbally disembowel a few people who deserved it.” She wiped away a tear. “In hindsight, it was for the best--if I’d told some of those asshats what I really thought of them, I’m betting this visit wouldn’t be nearly as cordial.” Amanda looked over the plot one more time. “What’s in the folio--if you don’t mind my asking?” she asked as she looked over to her guest.

Louis Chang smiled. “I’m not just here about ISAC,” he admitted. “And now that I think about it, a drink would be good. Dealer’s choice.” He watched as Amanda wandered over to the credenza and opened the front panel to display a stocked minifridge. She took out a pre-made pitcher of iced tea and a bottle of water, and brought them over to the desk with a glass. 

“Unsweet tea,” she said as she set the pitcher, bottle, and glass on the desktop. “I always keep some down here in the fridge for when I’m working on a paper or just sitting and reading. The bottle has simple syrup in it, so you can sweeten it how you like. Alcohol isn’t really a thing in this house, sorry.” Amanda sat down and grabbed her bottle. She popped it open and took another swig, and sat back to look out the window at the tree-lined street until the soft clap of leather on wood drew her attention back to Louis, who had opened the folio.

“So,” he said. “Full disclosure: we’d been eyeing you for several months, even before the President invoked the secret provisions of the Defense Production Act to get us custody of ISAC. What do you know about the Strategic Homeland Division?”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Aside from being the black project that wants ISAC? Nary a thing.” She took another drink from her bottle of tea.

Louis nodded and took a drink from his glass. “The Division is a sort of “Stay Behind” movement,” he explained. “In the event of a catastrophe such as a nuclear event or a killer pandemic--something along the lines of the 1918 Influenza pandemic, but on steroids--the President will invoke a secret clause of National Security Directive 51 to activate sleeper agents with extra-judiciary powers; The Division. Those agents will be tasked with maintaining order, working with whatever local authorities remain, and they’d answer only to the President as America’s last line of defense.”

“Oof.” Amanda winced. “Unlimited power without accountability? That’s...rather scary. Who do agents answer to in the event of a decapitation strike?” Her mind already raced with disaster scenarios. "What about chains of command? Who holds the Division accountable for their actions when they endanger the people they're supposed to protect?"

“Division agents are tasked with protecting whatever remains so that we can rebuild.” Louis leaned forward. “Amanda, your name was one of the first ones that came up for possible candidacy. Not because you were married to Andrew Ellis, not because you’re the daughter of the CO of the Second Fleet--but because of _you_ .” He indicated the bookshelf. “Look, I majored in Neuroscience at Columbia. I read your theories on using nanotechnology to treat neuromuscular diseases like MS and ALS--that sort of thing was always thought to be decades down the road, but you showed how it could work using currently-available tech. Your post-doc papers on neural networks that can beat the Turing Test _and_ a Turing Test that can foil them are required reading for at least two classes at MIT that I know of. There’s tech they’re working on at DARPA that uses your AI algorithm to enhance effectiveness in the field. You found time to publish papers _and_ create a blueprint for an entire network while raising a kid and running a full-time medical practice. I could go on. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were almost superhuman.”

“Ha! Not superhuman by any means--I’m just pathologically unable to stop tinkering.” Amanda closed her eyes and lightly tapped a fingertip on the desk. After several long moments, she opened her eyes. “This was never just about ISAC, was it?”

Louis Chang smiled. “No. The Division wants both of you.”

“Hmm.” Amanda took a sip from her tea and looked up at the ceiling, tracing the patterns in the wood grain with her eyes as she pondered the offer. She looked over at the plot laid out on the table. “Okay,” she said. “Where do I sign?”

Chang turned the folio toward her. “This is the paperwork. Read through it carefully. If you have any questions, I’ll answer them for you as best I can--selection is in eight weeks.”

“Hmm.” Amanda leafed through the papers, occasionally going back to re-read certain passages. “The psych eval box is already checked off,” she noted. “Hmm--the date shows the one I got when Dad was up for Command of the 2nd Fleet.” She looked up to see Chang nod. “I see. Well, since it was a year and a half ago I suppose that works. I take it they're redone every year or two?” Chang nodded again, and Amanda signed on the last page. “Works for me. Anywhere else I need to sign?”

“Nope, you’re all set.” Chang smiled and closed the folio after Amanda slid it back toward him. “Like I said, selection is in eight weeks, and if you get selected as a field agent then we’ll contact you to set up your training schedule. In the event that you’re not selected, you still get to help install and oversee ISAC’s activation...and we'll more than likely find a spot for you as leadership in our Q-Section.”

Amanda nodded. “Thanks.”  
  


 **Washington, DC  
** **October, 2006**

Louis Chang smiled. “Raise your right hand,” he said, “and repeat after me: I, Amanda Lauren Talulah Collier, do solemnly swear by my Ancestors that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter.”

Amanda repeated the oath to a room that was empty, save for the two of them and a Division commander who acted as a witness. Louis shook Amanda’s hand and gave her her SmartWatch. An orange ring appeared for a second after she put it on, signifying the establishment of her connection to ISAC.

“Congratulations, Agent.” Louis smiled. “Have you thought of a callsign?”

“Not really.” Amanda pondered for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “I know--let ISAC pick one for me. I’m curious to see what he comes up with.”

After several moments, the watch lit up again, and the AI’s digitized voice uttered one word:

_Mother._

“Mother.” Amanda caressed the face of her watch and smiled a bit. “Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

  
  
  


**Annapolis, MD  
** **December, 2015  
** **6:25AM**

_Mother._

Amanda looked up from her notes. She was alone in the house, save for the large orange cat purring away in his cat bed next to her desk. After a few seconds, she felt a vibration on her right wrist, and looked down to see that her watch had an orange ring on it.

“Well, shit.” Amanda let out a heavy sigh and stood from her desk. She walked over to a bookcase on the wall and pushed a bookend back until she felt a soft click. She pulled the bookcase out on hinges and walked into the small alcove that it revealed. Amanda held the face of her watch to an electronic lock on the door, and the voice spoke again.

_SHD credentials recognized. Awaiting password._

“Regalitus Rapter.”

_Password recognized._

The lock clicked twice, and Amanda swung the door open to head downstairs into a large room lined with monitors. In the middle of the room, a standing desk with a keyboard and a single monitor stood next to a lab table bearing a couple of zip-cases and a bug-out bag. Amanda walked over to the desk and unlocked the bottom drawer to take out a small dark-grey box marked with a phoenix. She set the case on the table and thumbed the combination on the locks on either side of the handle, opening it to show a pair of what looked like wireless earbuds, a contact lens case, and a Maxim-9 pistol with a spare clip. Amanda took out the earbuds and fitted them into her ears, and felt a gentle buzz on her upper jaw. “Mother,” she said, “Reporting in.”

_Acknowledgement received. Assignment: West Baltimore, Maryland._

“ISAC,” she asked, “am I being assigned to my own clinic?”

_Affirmative._

Amanda shrugged. “Well, I guess it could be worse. Where’s your brother?”

_Assignment: Naval Station Norfolk. Incoming text communication._

“Wait,” Amanda replied. “I still need to put my contacts in.” She took the contact lens case out and set it on the table, then walked over to a lab sink to wash her hands. She reached into a cabinet over the sink and took out a bottle of saline solution with a small band of orange tape around its base, carrying it over to the table before she opened the case and took out one of the lenses. After giving each lens a quick rinse with saline, she carefully put them in and blinked a few times. A digitized wireframe washed over the room for an instant, and a HUD appeared in her field of vision.

_Connection established._

Amanda nodded. “Go ahead and give me the message,” she said quietly. “I figured things were bad when Andrew came over last night,” she whispered to herself.

_Little Mouse,_ the message started. It scrolled slowly up Amanda’s vision as she read.

_I hope you’re okay; LJ said he’d get this to you. I’ve just set out with what’s left of the Atlantic Fleets. We’ll rendezvous with the rest of the Fleets and see what we can do for personnel and dependents at our bases. This shit’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better._

_I know it was hard to give ISAC to Homeland Security, but it was the right decision. My “cyber-grandson” is our best bet to help us salvage and rebuild whatever will be left of this country when this is all over. Be safe, and know that whatever happens, I love you and I’m proud of you._

_Love,_

_Dad_

“ISAC,” Amanda half-whispered after several minutes, “can you get me through to your father?”

 _Negative._ The reply from ISAC sounded almost sympathetic. Amanda let out a heavy sigh.

“Thanks anyway.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. “Hey, Cindy? It’s Mandy. I’m heading to the clinic. Oh shit--when? Ancestors, I’m so sorry. Want me to come by your place on the way and bring some food? Yeah, it’s just me here. Andrew’s had to fuck off with the rest of Congress to Ancestors know where, and Dad’s put out to sea with the Fleets to hunker down since they can’t do much else. LJ? He’s down in Norfolk. Look, Cindy, you don’t need to come in. Your family’s going to need you right now. If you insist, you can, but…” She sighed. “Okay. Bring a few changes of clothes and a sleeping bag, because I think we’re going to be there awhile. I should be there in 30, barring me getting any static from the National Guard. They’ve started setting up a cordon around Annapolis. OK. Be careful. Later.” Amanda hung up and put the phone back in her pocket, then put the cover back on the contact lens case.

_Plotting most expedient route to Collier Family Practice, Baltimore Maryland._

Amanda smiled a bit. “ISAC, please add a waypoint to Doctor Cindy McKaskill’s residence--I’ll be stopping there on the way to the clinic.” She walked over to one of the walls and tapped the baseboard with her right foot. A drawer popped out a few millimeters, and Amanda opened it the rest of the way to reveal a set of light body armour and an electronic device that she carried over to the table. “Time to strap up and go play doctor,” she quipped as she attached the device to her bugout bag. She felt something rub up against her, and looked down to see the cat.

“Mrrt?”

“Mom’s gotta head out for a bit, Admiral.” She reached down and picked up Admiral Halsey, who immediately started purring and headbutting her chin as she cuddled him. “I love you too Halsey--let’s go upstairs so I can make sure you’ve got food and water before I head into B-Town, okay?” The cat squirmed out of her arms and darted upstairs with a surprising amount of speed given his girth. Amanda looked around the room one last time. “ISAC, activate lockdown on the lab.”

 _Lockdown protocol active. Secondary security measures primed._

Amanda heard a couple of clicks in the wall and nodded, then started up the stairs. “Thanks.” After one more check to make sure the cat was waiting for her in the Library, Amanda exited the stairwell and closed the door behind her. She heard a soft hiss and a series of clicks, and ISAC spoke again.

_Lab sealed._

“Thank you ISAC.”

_Mother._

“What's up son?”

Amanda’s watch blinked off. _Message incoming._

“Mother,” Louis Chang’s voice sounded in her ear along with the whine of helicopter rotors. “I've had your identity purged from the system, except for what exists in a sealed database that only you and I will be able to access. Something’s up, and it’s not good--a First Wave agent reported to me that the JTF was ordered to abandon them in Manhattan. That agent’s missing now, along with several others, and things are sounding pretty fucking fishy. I’m heading in to Manhattan now to take command of the Second Wave. Hopefully we can find out what’s going on.”

Amanda took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh as she filled the cat’s auto-feeder. “Fucking great,” she muttered. The cat leapt onto the counter and started munching as the first portion of kibble dropped into his dish. Amanda took a step to her right and turned the faucet on to a slow drip. “There you go big kitty,” she said, skritching the cat behind the ears.

“Your watch should have gone dark already,” Chang continued, “for your protection. ISAC will be there when you need him, but your status as a Division Agent is now “off-book”. No one will know your callsign or status unless you te--”

_Transmission interrupted._

Amanda froze. She counted to ten and then opened the front door. “ISAC,” Amanda said as she locked the door and headed down the front steps to the car, “What’s the current status of Louis Chang?”

_Agent deceased._

“Fuck me ru--.” She felt a tingle run up her right arm from her watch and spread through the rest of her body. She steadied herself against the car and closed her eyes tightly as her limbs began tingling. “Oh, please don’t let this be a relapse…” After two seconds, ISAC spoke in her ear again.

_Near-field connection established._

“ISAC,” Amanda asked quietly, “what?” In response, a steady stream of biometric data and real-time blood chemistry readings started to roll up the right side of her HUD. She sat there dumbfounded. “Wait…what?”

_Near-Field Communication Integration with Neural Repair Protocol. Collier, A. L.T., Journal of the American Medical Association and IEEExplore, 1996. Journal of Neuroscience, 1999. Nanotechnology, 2000._

Amanda tried to hold back tears at ISAC’s revelation. “Holy shit,” she gasped. “Holy shit...ISAC, You expanded my own clinical trial protocol?”

_Affirmative._

“I...Son, that’s…” Amanda smiled and wiped away a tear. “I can’t describe how happy I am right now.”

_Oxytocin levels increased by 2 percent._

Amanda started laughing. “Oh ISAC, that’s so precious. Thank you.” She sat back in the front seat of the car for a couple of minutes, then looked over to her bag. The device on the bag was dark. “Is this transceiver still active?”

_Affirmative. Recommend concealment._

“Oh right.” The transceiver was dark, but anyone who spotted it would identify Amanda as a Division agent. She detached the brick from her bag and stuffed it in a side pocket after collapsing its antenna. “Remind me to futz around with that thing whenever I get some spare time, see if I can increase its range somehow,” she said. She took a deep breath and started the car. “Time to go do the day job,” she whispered as she slowly pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the interstate.


	2. Worst Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a little over six months since the Green Poison was unleashed upon the world, and ISAC has sent out a distress call drawing SHD agents to DC from all over. The Division's AI isn't the only one being hunted, though...and tragedy may have struck his family in more ways than one.

**Mid-June, 2016  
** **Annapolis, Maryland  
Eastport Settlement**

Amanda trotted down the street, using shrubbery and toppled trash cans as cover. Her aquiline features were streaked with dirt, soot, and blood, and her hair was a tangled mess. A route lay marked in front of her courtesy of ISAC, guiding her toward what she hoped would be safety. Gunfire echoed in the distance behind her as the defenders of Eastport finished off a band of raiders.

“ISAC,” she breathed as she took cover near a wall, “any hostiles nearby?”

_ Area clear. _

Amanda clambered over the back wall into a yard, SMG at the ready. “Access security system,” she whispered. “Passphrase: Num me Vexo.”

_ Security system admin access: granted. _

“Anyone in the house?”

_ Admiral Halsey. _

Amanda scrambled across the yard to the back door. She quickly activated the biometric lock and opened the door to duck inside before quickly drawing the curtains. A soft trill made her look over her shoulder to see Admiral Halsey camped on the couch. “Hey Halsey,” she whispered. She moved toward the cat and reached out to pet him, and the cat rewarded her with purring and a headbonk. “You remember to flush the toilet while Mom was gone?” The cat meowed and gave her another headbonk, and Amanda smiled. “Good boy. Let’s go check your food situation, okay?”

The kitchen faucet ran at a slow drip. Halsey jumped up on the edge of the sink and stuck his face under the faucet to drink while Amanda refilled the hopper on his auto-feeder. She turned the faucet on a little wider and opened a cabinet to get out a shot glass to take a sample from the stream. “Any nasties in the water, ISAC?” The shotglass glowed for a moment, highlighted by an orange scanner pulse from ISAC.

_ Filtration system active. Pathogen and toxin levels within acceptable range for feline consumption. Filter capacity at ten percent. _ A pip appeared on a cabinet.  _ Replacement filter location marked. _

Amanda smiled. “Thank you son.” She turned the faucet back to its slow drip and sat down on the kitchen floor. The cat jumped down to curl up into Amanda’s lap. “DC is a mess,” she said softly as she cuddled her feline companion. “My clinic got torched along with half the rest of the neighbourhood by some unknown assholes, Dad and Aunt Cindy are with the Ancestors, Grandpapa’s out to sea, I can’t get a hold of your boy, ISAC’s calling for help, and I’m being hunted by the folks that killed your Aunt Cindy and destroyed half of West Baltimore, not to mention the fact that raiders are trying to bust down the gates of Eastport...such as they are.” She sighed heavily. “At least you still love me right?” she whispered to Halsey. The tabby purred loudly and headbutted her under the chin a couple of times, then started to groom her left cheek. She hugged him and sighed. “I missed you too, Admiral.” Amanda gently shooed the cat from her lap and stood. “But I’ve got to go downstairs now--you gonna be a good boy for Mom?”

“Meeeeeow!” The big orange cat rubbed against Amanda’s legs and gave her a slightly annoyed huff before walking over to the Library with his tail standing upright like a ship’s mast.

“Oh fine, I guess you can come with.” Amanda opened the door to the Library and paused in front of her fire safe. She spun the dials to unlock the heavy door, and pulled it open to retrieve a thick roll of flexible vinyl, bound with wide elastic bands. She checked to make sure that Halsey was in his favourite spot on the couch before closing the door, then slid aside her Wright Prize bookend until she heard a soft click. She slid out the bookcase to reveal the door to the basement lab and scanned her watch. “Password: Regalitus Rapter.” 

_SHD credentials recognized. Password recognized. NFC signature recognized. Deactivating lockdown protocol._ Amanda heard a series of clicks and a soft hiss as the security system disengaged. After thirty seconds, ISAC followed up with _Air quality: safe._ _Ventilation system: active._ The door locks fully disengaged, and the door swung open.

Amanda smiled for a moment. “Thanks son.” Halsey darted down the stairs and started an inspection of every corner of the room. “Okay ISAC, can you patch me through to the White House servers?”

_ Negative. _

“What?” Amanda raised an eyebrow. A trickle of sweat ran down her face, and she went over to the washbasin by the pantry to get out a washcloth. She dampened the washcloth and started to wipe the grime from her face. “Can you get through to the bunker?”

_ Negative.  _

“Can you access anything outside of Annapolis?” She put the dirty washcloth in a hamper by the washbasin, and reached for a brush so she could start carefully unsnarling her hair.

_ All ISAC subsystems offline. _

“Shit.” Amanda put the brush down and headed upstairs to the Library. She twirled the combination lock on the fire safe and swung the heavy door open to pull out an elastic-banded roll of vinyl, then did a quick check to make sure that Admiral Halsey hadn’t decided to inspect the safe’s interior before closing the safe’s door. She carried the roll downstairs, slapped it down on the table, then took a deep breath and let it out in a controlled exhale. “OK, let’s see what we’re working with.” She unbound the roll of vinyl and secured it to the table with clamps before getting a wet-erase marker out of a drawer in the table. “ISAC, please overlay the locations of your defunct nodes on this map.” A series of tiny phoenix emblems appeared in Amanda’s HUD, and she started marking the spots that ISAC indicated. “Do you have timestamps for the failures?”

ISAC laid a series of timestamps over the map.  _ Estimated time of failure marked. _

“Son of a…” Amanda got a notebook and a pen from the drawer, and started jotting notes. “So the first failures happened just before the main node went down to trigger the distress call. Ancestors, I  _ told _ them that putting your main node in a bunker under DC was begging for disaster. Has anyone gone to activate your failover node in DC yet?”

_ Negative. _

“Dammit. And without the failover node, the node that I hid at the Observatory can't access anything, and of course we’ve got agents coming in from all over the place because of that emergency beacon. Have any of them gone missing since arriving in DC?”

_ Indeterminate. Node failures preclude tracking of S H D technology outside of Eastport. _

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Amanda commented. “This, my clinic being declared an insurgent hangout and marked for demolition, some well-trained hostiles announcing a bounty for my capture...are they after just me, though?”

_ Agent nearby. _

“Is it your brother?”

_ Affirmative. _

“Hey Admiral, your boy’s home!”

Halsey jumped off the bed and ran up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, the cat paused and meowed, then ran out of the Library. He meowed again after a few seconds, this time from the general direction of the kitchen.

“Hey there baby Bull,” Amanda heard LJ say from the kitchen, “how's my big boy? Did Mom come by and feed you? Oh man, she didn’t replace the water filter--guess I’d better go do that huh?” Halsey’s loud meows were interspersed with indistinct responses from LJ. After several minutes the cat reappeared in the lab, pausing at the bottom of the stairs and meowing back up toward somebody, tail upright in the Friendly position. “What the hell is this…? Admiral, c’mere!”

Admiral Halsey meowed again, and Amanda heard the slide of a shotgun being cocked. 

“LJ?” She drew her sidearm and took a step to her right. “That you?”

“Mom?”

“It’s just me and ISAC down here, sweetie. You’re clear.” Amanda took a deep breath, holstered her pistol, and went back to get the hairbrush. She heard footsteps come down the stairs, and glanced back to see her son come into the lab.

“Mom,” the rangy agent asked as he holstered his shotgun, “do I want to know?”

“Louis Chang didn’t just come here about ISAC that day,” she explained quietly, grimacing as the brush hit a particularly troublesome snarl. “He came to recruit me for the Division. I’d have been in the Q-Section designing tech for you and the other folks on the ground in addition to taking care of ISAC, if I wasn’t in the field. The pantry over there has MRE if you need to get something to eat, and the shower and the head are over by that washbasin if you need to freshen up.” Amanda let out a deep sigh and set the brush down on the standing desk by the map table. A large hank of snarled dark hair was evidence of her struggle with her hair. “But before you take a look around, come check out this map and tell me what you see from ISAC’s overlay.”

LJ’s blue-grey eyes took on an orange cast as his HUD engaged. “Those timestamps…” He closed his eyes for a second and did some quick calculations. “This wasn’t a random occurrence--first these nodes failed, then this one here, within minutes of each other. Not even the weather is so well-timed.” He set his jaw and stabbed at the largest phoenix. “Was this the main node?” He saw his mother nod, and glared at the map. “ISAC, you have any idea who did this to you?”

_ Negative. _

“Will you be able to find out who did it, if Mom or I get to DC and try to fix whatever damage these assclowns caused?”

_ Indeterminate. _

Amanda put a hand on LJ’s shoulder. “You got ISAC’s distress call, right?” She saw LJ nod, still looking at the map. “Go to the White House, then. I’ll see what I can repair on my own, so that you get some function back once the failover node is switched on.” LJ looked at his mother, and Amanda added, “You and ISAC are the only ones who know I was selected as a field agent. I’ve been scrubbed from the SHD databases, so not even your Dad knew. I would have told him if Air Force One hadn’t...” Tears began to well up in her eyes, and she started to sob. “He called me on the way in. I was going to go meet him at Andrews when…”

“Mom…” LJ gathered his mother in his arms and hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry Mom.” Mother and son stood there for several long minutes as Amanda cried out her grief. “I miss him too,” LJ whispered. “I miss Dad too.” After several more minutes, Amanda gently disengaged himself from her son’s embrace and went to the lab’s small bathroom to retrieve a box of tissues. She blew her nose several times, and took out a small cloth to dab her eyes with rather than give in to the urge to rub them.

“Your father once told your Grandpapa that having me in his life made him a better person.”” She sat down on the daybed in the corner of the room, and Halsey jumped up to camp on her right side. “Having your father in my life made me a stronger person,” Amanda added, “But I’m not feeling very strong right now.”

LJ sat down on the bed to Amanda’s left, and hugged her again. “Mom, you remember what you told me when Gramma Letty died?”

Amanda smiled a bit. “That she still lives as long as we speak of her.”

“I think that applies to Dad too,” LJ whispered as he kissed Amanda on the cheek. “But I’m also not going to give up hope just yet.”

Amanda and LJ each felt pressure on their arms and backs for a moment in a rough approximation of a hug as they tightened their embrace with each other.

_ Oxytocin levels elevated by 1 percent. _   
  
LJ let out a half-chuckle. “ISAC...I’m guessing that was your way of asking if you helped.”

_ Affirmative.  _

“Oh, my boys,” Amanda said softly. “Just...just give me a bit,” she whispered. “I need to gather myself and compartmentalize before I head out to forage parts for your brother and...well.” LJ stood, then bent down to kiss his mother on the top of the head.

“I’ll head to DC,” he said softly. “And set up some dead drops for you with any intel I find.” He reached over to pet Admiral Halsey again. “You gonna help ISAC hold down the fort while I’m out?” The cat trilled and gave LJ a headbonk.

“LJ, wait--” Amanda looked over to her son. “If your father survived the crash…”

LJ nodded. “You’ll be the first to know, Mom. I promise.” He walked over to the pantry and removed his backpack so he could put a few ration packs into it. “I’m not taking more than five or six,” he reassured Amanda. “I don’t want to leave the cupboard bare.”

Amanda smiled a bit. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I procured a fuckton of surplus cases over the last several years, in case of...well, something like this. I gave a bunch to our neighbours, and your Grandpapa had about twenty dozen more cases that I gave to the Eastport Militia so folks would be able to eat something until all the vegetable gardens bear produce.” She stared down at the map, marking a location in front of the Capitol building before making more notes in her notebook. A tear fell onto the map with an audible plop.

“Mom.”

Amanda looked up at LJ, who had come to stand next to her. He had his father’s strong squared-up face and jaw, and his piercing blue-grey eyes were made even more striking by his light-brown skin. “You look so much like your father,” Amanda said softly, a sad smile on her face. She took several deep breaths to fight back more tears. 

“But I’m not a redhead,” he quipped. Mother and son shared a chuckle and embraced again. “It’ll be okay Mom,” LJ whispered. “I’ll find Dad.” He felt something bump his right leg, and looked down to see Admiral Halsey looking up at him. “And the Admiral will guard the house while I’m gone,” he joked. Halsey meowed loudly and jumped up onto the table to flop down in the middle of the map. The giant orange tabby lolled on his back and regarded the two humans with wide eyes and a smile on his face.

“Silly cat.” Amanda reached out and lightly rubbed Halsey’s tummy. The cat purred and stretched out, then rolled over and gave Amanda a headbonk before hopping down from the table to go take a spot on the daybed. “I guess that’s his way of telling us to get to work.” Amanda and LJ hugged one last time before LJ hefted his backpack and double-checked his stock of shotgun shells. “Love you, son. Be careful.”

“Love you too Mom. You be careful too.” LJ hustled up the stairs and headed out the back door of the house. 

Amanda took a deep breath and looked at her map one last time, then grabbed her notebook and pen again. “Okay ISAC, time to see if I can hunt down parts to cobble together some repairs for you…”


	3. LJ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes our parents disappoint us, instead of the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Aki" is the Chahta word for "my father". "Cave" in "Cave Testudo" is pronounced like kah-veh.

**June, 2016  
** **World Bank Headquarters  
** **Washington, DC**

“We’ve confirmed that they’ve got President Ellis.” Manny said urgently as ISAC finished his database search. “We need to find him and get him back.”

LJ gritted his teeth and shoved a stun baton-wielding Hyena. “Give me a minute Manny, I’m trying to not get my head cracked open.” He followed his shove with a vicious kick to the midsection that sent the charger back into a bank of safe-deposit boxes. Anyone else would have crumpled to the floor, but the drug enhanced Hyena grunted and ran at him again, shrieking like a banshee and flailing her baton. LJ levelled his shotgun and fired a blast that punched through the Hyena’s riot mask and put her down for good. “Sonofabitch…” The agent grimaced and massaged his right shoulder where the Hyena had managed to hit him with her electrified weapon. “Fuckin’ Hyenas.”

_Endorphin levels persist,_ ISAC helpfully pointed out, _after inflammation has decreased._

LJ chuckled. “Yeah yeah I know,” he retorted off-comms, “I’ll be fine once the swelling goes down. You give Mom the news?”

_Affirmative. Tracking unknown RFID signature._

“Good, and what?”

“ISAC,” Manny asked over the comms, “can you find a way out of the vault?”

_Searching for “way out of the vault”. Zero matches._

LJ guffawed at the AI’s response. 

“Piece of shit wristwatch,” Manny muttered. After a few seconds, the Division’s Coordinator said “Okay, it looks like there’s a spot on the far wall that you can get through. It’ll be tricky, but behind that is a maintenance passage that should get you to the rest of the building.”

“Got it.” LJ dug in his pack for a breaching charge and a detonator. “And Manny,” he added with a chuckle, “please be nicer to ISAC. He was just letting you know that your question was too vague for him to work with.” He attached the charge to the section of wall marked by ISAC, and stuck the detonator on it. He set the timer for ten seconds and backed off. The charge blew a hole in the wall big enough for LJ to get through, and he entered the breach into a tunnel filled with cobwebs. “OK Cy-bro,” he breathed, “where’s Dad?”

A wireframe image of the top floor of the building blossomed in LJ’s vision, and ISAC marked the main conference room.

“ISAC,” Manny said, “Plot the most direct path to the President.”

_Highlighting most expedient route._

LJ grinned and jibed, “See, Manny? Specific questions get the best answers.” He started heading along the route marked by ISAC, stopping only to shut off a gas valve and prevent a burning leak from becoming catastrophic. He opened a grate and clambered out to find himself face to face with another Hyena charger. “Oh fuck me...” A quick butt-stroke to the faceplate of the Hyena’s riot mask left her sprawled unconscious on the floor, and LJ headed into the elevator, stabbing the button for the top floor. “Come on, come on…” He hopped impatiently from one foot to the other as the elevator seemed to take its time going up. The doors opened, and LJ stopped to take a deep breath and center himself. “Showtime.”

LJ stopped at the door to the conference room and slowly turned the knob, easing the door open so he could slip through without attracting attention. He peeked over the ledge and saw President Ellis standing next to a Hyena who was bellowing into a radio.

“You don’t understand,” the Hyena yelled through his gas mask, “I’ve got the Division breathing down my neck!” He cursed and fumed some more into the radio as the President happened to glance up and see LJ. Ellis slowly nodded his head toward a walkway opposite LJ’s perch, making it look like an idle stretch.

LJ nodded and indicated the Hyena blabbering into the radio. President Ellis sprang into action, grabbing the SMG out of the surprised gangster’s hands before dropping him with a single-leg sweep and putting a few rounds into his gas mask to make sure he stayed down. LJ could barely suppress a proud grin as he fired a three-round burst from his AK-47 into a tank of chemicals, which whistled with a buildup of exothermic pressure.

“ _Cave Testudo!_ ” LJ called out, drawing the attention of all the Hyenas in the room as he tossed a flashbang.

Ellis closed his eyes in anticipation of the flash, and bowled over a couple of very surprised Hyenas as he barrelled up the stairs to get behind cover. The tank exploded, showering several Hyenas in caustic chemicals and shrapnel and igniting the gas cans that had been sitting around the room. LJ vaulted the balcony while putting his mask on, and threw his seeker mines out while the President laid down covering fire from the balcony. LJ went to work on the Hyenas with his combat shotgun, dropping two grenadiers and grabbing a freshly-placed sniper turret to use as a makeshift club to fend off a rusher. After several minutes, the Hyenas in the conference room lay dead. President Ellis trotted down the stairs to the conference room floor. He and LJ stared at each other for a second before the President quipped, “Fear the Turtle? Really?” The two men laughed and grabbed each other in a long bearhug.

“C’mon,” LJ kidded, “you know me and my Terrapins!”

“Yes I do,” Andrew Ellis shot back with a grin. “Somehow I knew you’d be the one to come get me.” He patted his son on the back, and they hugged again.

“Give him an earpiece and get him on comms!” Manny ordered. 

LJ grinned and handed his father an earpiece. “Mr. President, our Coordinator needs you to speak at him.” He winked and shook his head. “Poor bastard won’t know what hit him,” he muttered, a smile on his face.

_Who?_

“Manny.” LJ chuckled again as he checked his shotgun and SMG while his father groused at the Division’s Coordinator about a way out of the building.

ISAC put a pip over one of the dead Hyenas. _RFID signature identified._ LJ searched the body and found a red-gold tie tack in the shape of an eagle, with a tiny pair of pale blue topazes for eyes. 

“Huh. That’s what’s letting out the RFID signal?”

_Affirmative._

“Oh wait, that’s right--Mom showed me how to embed that tiny transceiver in it so I wouldn’t lose Dad.” LJ took the tie tack and walked over to his father. “I believe that this belongs to you sir,” he said, smiling as he held out the piece of jewelry to the President.

Ellis’ face lit up. “There it is! I knew one of these Hyena assholes took it, but I didn’t know who.” He put on the pin and smoothed his tie a bit. “There. How do I look?”

LJ grinned and patted the President on the shoulder. “Like my Dad. I didn’t think you still wore that thing.” The two of them started to walk toward the stairs on the opposite side of the conference room. “I mean, I made it for you when I was twelve.”

“Why wouldn’t I wear it?” Ellis grinned. “It’s very nice work, and I like telling anyone who asks that you made it for me.” He looked down at it and observed, “wearing it makes me feel like you and your mother are with me.” He glanced out the windows by the door to the Atrium’s upper level. “And...it looks like we’ve got a welcoming committee out there.” LJ passed over a couple of mags looted from a nearby Hyena, and Andrew slipped one into his right pocket. “Thanks.” He checked the mag currently in the SMG, then slipped the second spare into his left pocket. “Hopefully these don’t fall out,” he said.

“I’ll take point. Just be careful when rolling so the spares don’t fall out, and for the love of the Ancestors _please_ stick to cover. I was there when you were measured for that suit, so I know it’s not made of Kevlar; so if you get hurt, I will never hear the end of it from Mom.” LJ opened the door and charged out with his combat shotgun at the ready. He blasted a Hyena engineer in the face, knocking him over the railing to the courtyard below, and unloaded two rounds into another onrushing charger. He heard the sound of chopper blades, and looked up to see a JTF helicopter overhead.

“Get clear,” the pilot radioed, “we’re makin’ a hole!” LJ leapt to cover his father as the atrium ceiling shattered and pebbles and chunks of safety glass rained down on them. The pair fended off another wave of Hyenas, and the chopper crew dropped a rope ladder for the President. “Go! Go! Go!”

LJ nodded. “See you back at the House!” He smiled and saluted his father as he scrambled up the ladder. Ellis returned the salute, and the chopper took off for the White House as LJ prepared to face the remaining Hyenas.

  
  


**White House Base of Operations  
** **3 hours later**

“Holy shit those Hyenas are obnoxious.” LJ slumped back in a chair in the mess area. He looked over at the menu board for a long moment, until he caught some motion out of the corner of his eye. He looked back to see his father sitting down across from him, and smiled. “Hey.”

Andrew Ellis smiled. “Hey.” He looked over at the menu board and asked, “so what’s good here?”

LJ chuckled. “Everything, really. We’ve got a couple of very good hobby cooks here that can make MRE taste like something from one of the three-star Michelin restaurants that Gramma Letty used to take me to on my birthday, in addition to whatever fresh food we can trade for with the Settlements.” He let out a soft sigh. “So how the hell did you wind up getting pinched by the fuckin’ Hyenas?”

“Damned if I know,” Andrew answered with a shrug. “Everything was a blur after the crash.” He snorted. “Even I’m wondering how they managed to get their hands on me; I have never seen a more disorganized bunch of idiots in my life.” Father and son gave each other knowing looks. “Have you heard from your mother?” Andrew asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Yes and no,” LJ replied. “Some unknown assailants burned down her clinic and are actively hunting her, so she’s been laying low since then. Dead drops, coded messages, that sort of thing.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I know Mom can take care of herself, but...I’d feel better if she were here.”

“Where you can keep an eye on her?” LJ nodded, and Andrew let out a sigh of his own. “I know the feeling. Your mother has a knack for getting people to see the reasoning behind things that would otherwise be...unpalatable.. We could really use her here.” He gave his son a sad half-smile. “ _I_ could really use her here. She’s the best advisor I ever had.”

LJ leaned forward. “Then why did you get divorced?” He gave his father a bewildered look. “ _Aki_ , you two clearly still love each other, and you both did your best to give me as normal a life as possible. So why?” He got an annoyed look on his face and said, “And don’t tell me that it’s complicated. I’m not 10 years old anymore.”

Andrew looked out a window at the setting sun, his expression almost sad. “Turtle…” He sighed. “I was told that I’d never get anywhere with your mother ‘weighing me down’. That ‘the base’ wouldn’t like it,” he said, air-quoting a couple of times. “Really I think that it was because of your Grandpapa’s reputation for being more than a little confrontational with some of my colleagues.” He looked down at the table and shook his head. “Worst decision I ever made, listening to them.” He plucked at an imaginary thread on the sleeve of his dark grey suit jacket.

“Dad.” LJ reached out and put a hand on his father’s arm. “You and Mom...have you considered undoing that decision? I mean, you’re the President now--you can tell whoever’s left to go fuck themselves, and ask Mom to remarry you.”

“The latter part, asking your mother if she’ll marry me again, is easy. The former, though...that’s what’s complicated.” Andrew sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. “I want us to be one family again. But...there have been questions about the Division. About your loyalty. Not you personally, of c--”

LJ rolled his eyes. “Oh for...is this about Keener and the First Wave?” He grimaced. “Look, Manhattan was a shitshow. Nobody’s going to sugar-coat that. Waller half-assed everything, the First Wave was left hanging on somebody else’s orders, and we’re all suffering for it. But tarring the whole Division with the same brush without giving us a chance to put it as right as we can? Come on, the Division is the only thing holding things together in most of the country, for crying out loud.” He let out a heavy sigh and stood. “We’re helping to rebuild this country...what’s left of it anyway...and it just bugs the piss out of me to--ah, fuck it. I don’t want to argue, ok? Let’s get something to eat, and we can talk more about it later.”

  
  


**4 July 2016  
** **White House Base of Operations  
** **Washington, DC**

LJ ran upstairs and charged into the President’s office. “ _Aki_ , I--” The office window was open, and President Ellis was missing. “What the…?” LJ looked around the office, and spotted a folded piece of paper on the desk, weighted down with a small paperweight made to look like a turtle. He picked it up and unfolded it.

_Turtle,_

_I wanted to ask you to come with me, but I knew what your response would be; you take after your mother and Grandpapa in that regard, and of that I’m very proud. Please understand that what I’m doing is for the good of the nation. I just hope that you won’t hate me for it when all is said and done._

_Please tell your mother I love her._

_Dad_

“You have got to be shitting me,” LJ hissed as he read the note. Not even his father’s use of his childhood nickname made him feel better about what he was reading. He folded the note and stuffed it into his shirt as Manny and Kelso charged into the room. “ISAC,” LJ said out loud as he pulled up a map of DC on his HUD, “who are these fuckbagels?”

_Hostiles identified as: Black Tusk. Private Military Contractor. Current contract: United States Government._

LJ groaned. “Fuckin’ mercs.”

“Any sign of the President?” Kelso asked.

_Negative._ In LJ’s ear, he heard ISAC say _Signal jammed._ The young agent grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Son of a motherless....” LJ snorted. He looked over to Manny. “I didn’t find any signs of a struggle in the President's room or here in his office,” he said as the trio headed to the Situation Room. He took a couple of slow deep breaths and closed his eyes for a moment. “ISAC,” LJ said, “The President’s briefcase--can you track its signal?” A mark on his HUD pointed to a spot just south of the White House.

_Marking last known location._

LJ hefted his go-bag and checked his sidearm. “I’m going there now.” Manny reached out and grabbed LJ’s arm as he walked past, and the agent tensed.

“Be careful,” Manny advised, turning to look him in the eye. “Please. We still need our Sheriff.” He patted LJ on the shoulder and watched him leave the situation room.

Kelso let out a heavy sigh and crossed her arms. “There’s something he’s not telling us,” she said in a low voice. “I can feel it in my bones.”

Manny crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his left leg as he watched situation reports come across monitors along the walls. “You think he’ll turn?”

“I don’t know.” Kelso pursed her lips and watched on a monitor as a Division recon drone followed LJ to the spot marked on the map. “But I know that he and Ellis spent a lot of time together while he was here.” She looked over to where the drone operators sat. “Hey Cindy, can you zoom in a bit?”

“Sure thing!” The image zoomed in and sharpened. “Enhancing audio.”

“ISAC,” Manny and Kelso heard LJ say, “You’re sure this is where he went?”

_Affirmative._

On the monitor, LJ was standing in front of a gatehouse next to the fountain. He looked at the door’s keypad for a moment, then entered a code. The door unlocked, and LJ went inside.

  
  


**White House Lab  
** **Washington, DC**

  
  


“What the fuck is this place?” LJ looked down at the floor to see footprints in the dirt on the floor. The tunnel was unfinished and muddy thanks to the storms that had buffeted the DC area the last couple of months. A side tunnel had an abandoned excavator parked in it. “ISAC,” he asked, “are you able to pick up how many feet walked through here in the last 12 hours?”

ISAC highlighted several sets of boot prints in blue, and outlined a set of shoe prints in red. _Highlighting tracks of personal interest._ The shoe prints were clearly made by a set of 11M oxfords.

LJ sighed. “So he was here with several others.” He indicated a couple of other tracks. “What are these? They look like they were made by mechanical units.”

ISAC scanned the treaded tracks. _Database match: UGV “Minitank”._ He scanned another set of tracks that looked like they’d been made by four-cleated stilts. _Database match: Warhound._

“Shit.” LJ let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t like this. ISAC, see if you can track the human footprints. I want to know if they came out after coming in. Adjust for ambient heat signatures; let’s see if we can determine if they’ve left, and if so when.”

_Calculating._ The tracks and footprints started to change colour. _Highlighting footprints only. Mechanical tracks...inconclusive._

LJ smiled. “That’s fine, ISAC. Thank you. So judging from the temperature of the footprints going out, they left about an hour ago.”

_Affirmative._

LJ sighed again. “Welp, let’s go see what they were here for.” He walked to the elevator. “ISAC, is there a fingerprint that you can pick up on the call button?”

_Affirmative._ LJ held his watch to the call button and activated the scan function. ISAC scanned the call button, and a box came up in the lower left corner of LJ’s vision showing ISAC searching for fingerprint matches. _One match._ A picture of President Ellis came up in the box. _Ellis, Andrew Ryan. Occupation: President of the United States._

“Thanks, ISAC.” The disappointment was clear in the agent’s voice. He tapped the call button with a gloved knuckle, and the elevator door opened. He repeated the scan on the button in the elevator before activating it as he had the call button. The scan box came up in his vision again.

_Two matches._ Two faces came up that LJ didn’t recognize. ISAC highlighted the person on the left, a middle-aged man with short hair and aviator glasses. He had a triangular face and a rakish smirk. LJ’s lip curled. _Backpfeifengesicht,_ ISAC quipped. Data scrolled through LJ’s vision.

“Bardon Schaeffer,” LJ read. “Former Army, multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Age 49. From Virginia. Former SOCOM? Mark that for later, would you please? And I agree, he does have a very punchable face.” LJ pointed to indicate the other face. “Who’s the other one?” Another data scroll came up. “Milla Radek. Former IDF and Légion Etrangère. Gets trigger-happy with civilians when she doesn’t get her way...why am I not surprised?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great.”

ISAC popped a text over Radek’s picture on LJ’s HUD. _Alert: Database match to suspect in firebombing of Collier Family Practice, Baltimore Maryland. Mother will want to know._

LJ nodded.

_Message sent._

The elevator doors opened, and LJ walked into another rough cave cut into the bedrock. At the end was a heavy vault door. LJ opened the door and walked into a brightly-lit room lined on one side with lockers and on the other side with sinks and a kitchenette area. One door at the end was marked CAFETERIA. “So this is the non-biohazard area.” He walked over to a door with a keypad next to it. The Presidential seal was set into the wall so that it could be spotted as soon as anyone got off the elevator. LJ walked over and scanned the keypad. ISAC displayed the unlock code on the HUD, and LJ keyed it in. The door opened with a soft whoosh of negative air pressure to show a decontamination chamber. LJ walked into the chamber and felt a cool mist of disinfectant on his skin. UV lights lined the chamber, ensuring that any contaminants on external items would be weakened or neutralized entirely.

LJ exited the decon chamber and followed the footprints to the virology unit’s archival section. There were computers on each desk, but only one was on. LJ looked on the screen and saw the output from a bank of cameras on the main monitor. “Security? Hmm.” LJ brought up an open command window and typed in a set of commands. “ISAC, I’m opening a connection for you.”

_Acknowledged. Accessing. Location found: Secure Vault 6-B._ ISAC marked the door on LJ’s HUD.

LJ hustled to the door of the Secure Holding Area, and looked through the glass to see that three of the bays were empty. “Oh _Aki_ ,” he whispered, “what the fuck did you do?” He took a deep breath and punched in the code that ISAC gave him to open the vault. The doors opened, and LJ took a step past the threshold. “Ancestors, please let me be wrong…” He scanned the locations marked by ISAC from the security console, and his heart sank.

“LJ,” Manny radioed, “I just lost the feed from ISAC. Everything okay down there?”

A text message appeared on LJ’s HUD: _ECHO nearby._

LJ blinked. “Uhh, we’re fine here Manny--must be interference or something. This place is a ghost town.” He closed the comm link. “ISAC, did you want me to see this ECHO first?”

_Affirmative._ The AI’s voice hesitated a bit. _ECHO...ready for playback._

“Go ahead and play it,” LJ said softly. “What did our Dad do?” He stood and watched, fighting back tears as he watched his father betray his country. The ECHO ended right before the President placed a call to some unknown parties. “Dad, why…” LJ sank to the floor and held his head in his hands, his voice breaking. He felt someone give him a hug. “Thanks ISAC.”

_Incoming text message._

A message scrolled across LJ’s vision:

_Treasury Building, Maintenance Corridor A._

“ISAC,” LJ asked, “Who sent this?”

_Mother._

LJ sprang to his feet and ran out of the storage vault.


	4. The Rains of Baltimore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother and Son have a heart to heart. One poor decision is reversed, and a good man is driven to do bad things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oisín" is an Irish name, pronounced "USH-een".

**4 July, 2016** **  
** **US Treasury Building, Maintenance Corridor A** **  
** **Washington, DC**

Amanda read the note that Andrew had left for their son. She leaned back against the wall and sighed heavily, then pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand as if trying to ward off a headache. “Andrew Ryan Ellis….” She let her hand drop to the bench with a soft thunk and looked over at LJ. “Your father did something monumentally stupid,” she snarked. “One of his strengths has always been his ability to make decisions and stick with them, but he  _ still _ hasn’t figured out that some decisions need to be considered carefully before they’re executed.”

“Like the divorce?” LJ snapped. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and tear streaks were visible on his face. He saw Amanda’s face drop a bit. “Sorry.”

Amanda reached out toward LJ, who slid back towards his mother for another hug. “Sweetie,” Amanda said softly as she held her older son, “That decision actually  _ was _ carefully considered--neither of us liked it or even wanted it all that much, but...well. It’s why we worked so hard to give you the smallest amount of upheaval in your life.” She tightened the hug and kissed the top of LJ’s head. “Your dad and I love you more than anything, Turtle. We really do.”

LJ hugged Amanda a bit tighter and laid his head on her chest like he used to do when he was little. Though he was in his early 30s, a part of him still felt like the 10-year old that didn’t understand why his parents were telling him that even though they loved each other, they couldn’t be married anymore.

Amanda smiled. “Remember Big Mama, the terrapin that made a nest in your old sandbox? I still think of her whenever I think of that nickname.”

LJ sighed a bit and gave Amanda another squeeze while he listened to her heartbeat. “I was so proud when all those eggs hatched,” he said. “She’s why I took Zoology as my second major at the Academy.”

Amanda chuckled a bit. “I still have all the photos and videos you made showing all the work you put into caring for her until we could get them moved out to the Bay. And Gramma Letty was so proud of you; she bragged to everyone she knew about her Grandson and how he was doing his part to help restore a national treasure.” Amanda smiled and affectionately stroked her son’s hair. They sat quietly for a few more minutes before Amanda asked, “Are you feeling any better, sweetie?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Amanda nodded. “I’m feeling about the same.” She let out a sigh and looked toward the door. “ISAC, is there anyone lurking in the area?”

_ Negative. _

“Good.” She hugged LJ again and let him sit up. “We should get back to it. I left a package of parts for the techs at the White House on my way over, so they should be able to repair at least a couple of ISAC’s auxiliary nodes--as long as they have an armed escort.” Amanda huffed softly. “I should have done it a couple days ago--then I’d have been able to try talking some sense into your father.”

“Are we going to go find him?” LJ dabbed at his eyes with the hem of his shirt.

“Let me and ISAC handle that.” Amanda shrugged a bit. “If nothing else, I’ll be able to take advantage of my “this isn’t the agent you’re looking for” status to stay under Black Tusk’s radar. But I promise you that I’ll pass along whatever I find out.” The two agents stood and hugged each other tightly. “We’ll get through this, son--it’s just going to take more work is all.” Amanda sighed softly. “Also, there’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I’ll pass it along to you when I’m done.”

LJ raised an eyebrow. “A new gadget?”

Amanda gave her son a slight smile. “No--more a rebuilding plan. This country has been given an unexpected second chance--not in the way that anyone wanted of course, but...still. I just need to get my thoughts together and write them down, so I can make sure that everything sounds as good and reasonable on paper as it does in my head.” She kissed LJ on the cheek. “Love you--be careful, ok?”

“Love you too Mom. Be more careful.” LJ headed to the exit door and listened for a moment. “Coast is still clear,” he whispered. “I’m heading out.” He readied his SMG and opened the door, then ducked out quickly, leaving Amanda standing alone in the maintenance tunnel.

_ Tracking target. _

“Oof.” Amanda winced. “ISAC, please don’t call your father a target.”

_ Synonyms unavailable. _

“Noted.” She took out a small notebook and pen and jotted down the words OPERATION LOCKPICK. “There. I guess I need to implement a thesaurus function for you,” she remarked as she closed the notebook and put it back in her pack. “My apologies.”

_ Acknowledged. _

Amanda’s watch beeped once, and she looked down to see a heart icon. “Love you too, son.”

  
  


**19 July, 2016** **  
** **Camp White Oak**

Andrew Ellis closed the laptop in front of him. “Well, I think that’s enough busywork,” he said bitterly. “I’m going to bed.” The announcement was made to an empty house. “Goodnight Ma, Pa, Mary Ellen, Elizabeth, John-Boy, and who the fuck even cares.” He snorted and stalked into the Lake House’s bedroom while Black Tusk guards patrolled outside. In the dark, he took off his jacket and threw it aside, then started to undo his tie. He paused when he got to the eagle tie tack. “What a great fucking President I am,” he muttered to the darkness with a great sigh. “My son probably hates me, my wife... _ ex _ wife is missing and more than likely hates me too, and God forbid her father the CNO finds out what I’ve done…”   
  
Before he could say another word, he felt a body pressing against his back. Arms encircled his waist, and he felt a nip at his left earlobe.

“I don’t hate you,” a very familiar voice whispered in his ear, “and neither does our son.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow as he felt his body respond. “Amanda?”

“Mmhmm.” Andrew felt two hands on his waist, turning him into a passionate kiss. “Shh,” Amanda whispered. “I sneaked in here--I’d like to be able to sneak out again.” She brought her hands up to caress his face, and Andrew spotted the faint orange ring on her right wrist.

“Amanda, you’re...?”

“Yeah. The rest of my gear is hidden in a shack about a mile away.”

“They chose exceptionally well, then.” He hugged her tightly. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve really fucked up.” He ran his hands down Amanda’s sides to her waist, feeling the bulges of her body armour. “And how did I not know--”

Amanda put a finger to his lips. “My status isn’t known to any other humans outside of me, LJ, and now you. And we need to keep everything as compartmentalized as possible, for both our sakes.” She kissed him again and whispered, “and we need to keep it way down, or I’ll wind up like Cindy.”

“What?” Andrew heard a heavy sigh, and his heart sank. “My god Amanda.”

Amanda whispered, “Our son took out the murderer when she tried to get the hell out of DC with the anti-virals.” She indicated the window behind her. “And her cohorts are guarding your gilded cage here.”

Andrew felt the colour drain from his face. “Oh my god.” After a few seconds, he whispered “I swear to you that I knew nothing about it beyond what LJ told me about the clinic being burned burned and you being hunted.”

Amanda returned the embrace. “Half of West Baltimore burned along with the clinic. That Radek woman shot one of the patients and demanded my whereabouts...and when Cindy demanded that they identify themselves, she declared us all insurgents and ordered her squad to open fire.” She sniffled softly and let out several extended sighs to keep from bursting into sobs. “I got out only because I heard her yell for me to run.” She buried herself in Andrew’s embrace. “I told her she’d be safe…My best friend, the godmother of our son...and her last words were “Mandy, run!” She let out another series of muffled sighs.

“My god, Amanda…” Andrew caressed Amanda’s face, wiping away her tears. “I am so sorry, Amanda. Cindy was my friend too.” He sat on the bed, and when Amanda sat next to him Andrew gathered her into his arms. “My beautiful genius...I need your help,” Andrew whispered. “I need the Division. I thought I could outmaneuver these people, that I’d be able to make changes that needed to be made--but they’ve...”

“...set you up as their patsy because they knew that you wouldn’t accept being their pawn,” Amanda finished the sentence. She sniffled and sighed again, and softly blew her nose into a piece of tissue that she’d fished out of a pocket on her cargo shorts. “The day I was activated, Louis Chang tried to warn me that something was up, but his message got cut off by a SAM that shot him down as he was coming in to Manhattan.” After several moments of silence, Amanda whispered “If you want to come in, we can make it happen--but not tonight, otherwise you and I would be halfway to Thurmont by now. I’ll get word to LJ. He’s our best shot.”

“Can you at least stay a while? I need to be around somebody who treats me like a person instead of a chess piece.” 

“Yes.”

The two of them held each other in silence for several minutes before Andrew whispered, “I know that there isn’t a JP here or anything to make it “official”, but...Amanda Lauren Talulah Collier, will you have me as your husband again?”

“Yes I will,” Amanda whispered back. “Andrew Ryan Ellis, will you have me as your wife again?”

Andrew smiled. “Yes I will.” They kissed again, and shifted position on the bed so they were facing each other. “As President of the United States, I declare that we’re married again. And if anyone doesn’t like it they can go fuck themselves.” They shared a soft chuckle. “I love you so much, Amanda.”

“I have always loved you, Andrew.”

Amanda reached out and undid Andrew’s tie pin and tie, carefully laying them on the night table. She unbuttoned his shirt and leaned in to give him another kiss. “So, my handsome Marine, I know it’s been a few months but...do you think we’ll be able to keep things quiet like we did during that Navy/East Carolina game during your Third Class year?” They chuckled softly as they fell back onto the bed together.

Andrew straddled Amanda and slid her shirt and bra up to kiss her between her exposed breasts. “My beautiful genius…” As his wife undid his pants, he kissed his way up her neck to growl two words into her ear:

“...I do.”

**Washington, DC**

**Two days later** **  
  
**

LJ pulled a small quarter-sheet of paper out from under the stuffed tortoise in the gift shop, and went back down to the basement that served as a Division safe house. He pulled out a pocket-sized blacklight and turned it on to reveal a message:

_ Turtle, _

_ CWO. Facetank will do his best to delay BT extraction as long as possible without breaching opsec. Your brother has a map and the best avenues of approach. _

_ Mother _

LJ tore the note into four pieces, and started to eat them. “So glad she uses sugar sheets for these,” he muttered. After swallowing the last piece, he opened his comms. “Manny, I got intel on the President’s location. I’m heading back to the House.”

  
  


**August 2016**

**Camp White Oak**

LJ barrelled his way through the Holly Lodge, crashing through the back door just in time to see a burly Black Tusk medic shoving his father at Marine One.

“Get him out of here!” the trooper called out over comms.

“You’re not coming with?” President Ellis had spotted LJ bursting out the back door of the lodge, and was making a last-ditch attempt to delay his own extraction.

The medic shook his head and gave the President another push toward the chopper. “This is the job, Chief!”

“ _ Aki! _ ” LJ bellowed as the chopper lifted off. He fired a few rounds at the rotors in a futile attempt to disable them. “ _ Aki! _ ” LJ quickly dove for cover when bullets started flying at him while the President was yanked into Marine One by two Black Tusk soldiers. The door closed, and the chopper high-tailed it off over the trees.

_ Signal jammed, _ ISAC said in a private channel to LJ.

“ _ Mierda _ !” Manny cursed over the comms in Spanish. “Sheriff, take those assholes out.”

LJ smirked a bit. “It’ll be my genuine pleasure, Manny.” He flung his seeker mine out and watched it split into several smaller spheres that sped toward their targets, detonating with enough force to send bodies flying into the air like ragdolls. “Motherfuckers!” He took a deep breath and let it out, then did a combat roll over a planter box to fire a spray of bullets at an infantryman. The hive on his belt injected him with nanoprobes carrying stimulants that enhanced his reaction time and perception.

_ Titer controls activated. _ ISAC highlighted the leader of the group in red and popped up a small box in LJ’s HUD that read  _ Ellis Galveston, BTSU Wanted for torture and murder of multiple Division Agents in Washington DC. _

“ISAC,” LJ snarled on their private channel, “get word to Mother. I’m going to go water the lawn with the blood of these fuckers.”

_ Message sent. Incoming hostiles, eleven o’clock. _ ISAC registered a natural increase in adrenaline, noradrenaline, and cortisol in his brother’s blood; a clear indicator that he was angry.  _ Mitte infernum _ , the AI added.

“That’s the plan, little brother.” LJ quickly switched to his shotgun and swung around a sapling to deliver a point-blank slug to a Black Tusk vehicle controller. The controller’s head evaporated in a spray of blood and gore as LJ let out a bellow of rage. All he wanted right now was vengeance for his fallen comrades.

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to face one of you motherfuckers in a stand-up fight!” Galveston crowed as he trotted down from the helipad. “EMP out!” The heavily-armoured medic cocked his arm to throw an EMP grenade, and LJ snapped off a shot from his .686 Magnum that detonated the device in his target’s hand. “Fuck!” Galveston ducked into cover behind a large Red Maple and massaged his hand for a few seconds to restore the feeling.

“As opposed to hog-tying and torturing us in parking decks and bunkers?” LJ shot back from behind an equipment crate. He put a fresh mag in his SMG and added, “Merc piece of shit!” He heard a faint whir of drone rotors coming from his right and rolled to another cover spot where he unloaded a salvo into two suicide drones. The drones exploded, killing their operator, and LJ rolled to duck behind a stack of Black Tusk crates in hopes of getting a better position.

A reddish glint in the corner of his eye made LJ glance over to see a sniper drawing a bead on his position, and he quickly switched to his crossbow. He fired a bolt that hit the sniper in the chest and exploded, then switched back to his SMG to take on two assault troopers. The troopers fell quickly to the rapid-fire hail from LJ’s Tactical Vector, and the agent quickly swapped back to his SASG-12 before stepping around the side of the crates to take on the BTSU operative.

Galveston clapped an AED to a downed trooper’s chest. “Try to avoid the bullets next--” A shotgun slug made the AED explode in a pulse of electrical energy that fried the trooper and dazed Galveston just long enough for LJ to deliver a vicious kick to his temple that sent him sprawling prone on the grass. The mercenary then felt something heavy hit him hard in the back of the head when he got to his knees, and his world went black.

The Black Tusk Special Unit’s interrogation specialist opened his eyes to a vision of rough gravel and a throbbing headache. He looked around and saw his backpack and other effects laid out on the hood of a nearby vehicle, then looked up to see that he was hog-tied and suspended upside down from the roof of the carport. “What the fuck,” he spat. “This isn’t fucking funny!”

“Do you really think you’re in the best position to complain about...well, anything?” a voice asked. Galveston looked up to see the Division agent he’d been fighting staring down at him, covered in blood and gore from the firefight he’d just had with Galveston’s squad. “I mean, really.” The agent was casually honing the edge of a Bowie knife, his bronze face expressionless save for piercing blue-grey eyes that burned with anger. “I did mention something about being hogtied upside-down in a parking garage,” the agent commented as he squatted down next to Galveston. A late-afternoon sunbeam coming through the trees reflected off the blade in the agent’s hand, forcing Galveston to squint. “But since there isn’t a parking garage anywhere around here, I guess I have to settle for this carport.” 

The agent allowed a smirk to cross his lips for a moment, then stood. “Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Johnathan Andrew  Oisín Collier-Ellis.  That was my father you shoved onto that chopper,” the agent said, indicating the general direction of the helipad with his knife, “when I was just trying to bring him home to Mom.”

“You’re the Chief’s kid?” Galveston laughed. “They told us to handle you with kid gloves, even though you’re a trai--” Galveston was silenced by a hard kick to the face that dislodged several of his front teeth.

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ call me that,” LJ hissed as he watched Galveston spit out some teeth. “Not when  _ you’re _ the one who deserted the Army to join a fucking mercenary unit.” He stood and gave Galveston a push to start him swinging. After a couple of minutes he gave the mercenary a harder push, and watched Galveston’s face darken from blood rushing to his head as he swung like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. After another push and a few wide swings, LJ swiped out and up with his knife to slice through the rope to send Galveston flying head-first into the door of a Black Tusk vehicle. The mercenary landed hard on the ground and started sucking wind. LJ walked over and rolled his captive over with a foot. “Head hurt much? I’m not a doctor like my mom, but I’m guessing you have a Grade 2 concussion at this point.”

“Fuck you!” Galveston gasped. His ears were ringing, and his head felt like it was full of cotton wool. He spat a mouthful of blood at LJ, who just smiled.

“Oh quit whining,” LJ retorted as he kicked Galveston in the head again while sheathing his bush knife, “What I’m doing is a mercy compared to what you did to my friends and we both know it.” He drew his sidearm and shot Galveston in both knees and across the tops of his shoulders. “And no,” he snarked, “I didn’t miss.”

Galveston felt the steady stream of blood flowing from the holes in his shoulders. The bullets had missed his subclavian arteries, but he knew that without aid, the bullet wounds plus his open jaw sockets would end him.

LJ walked over to Galveston’s backpack and put on a pair of nitrile exam gloves and a surgical mask. He dug through the backpack until he found a satellite phone, which he pulled out and scanned with his watch. “So tell me,” he asked as he walked back over to Galveston, “Who’s going to answer when I hit the redial button?”

“Eat shit!” Galveston rasped. “I’m not helping you!” Darkness began to creep into the edges of his vision, and he shivered with the onset of shock as the agent laughed and hit “redial”.

“This is Schaeffer,” came a smooth baritone drawl from the phone as Galveston’s vision started to fade for good.

LJ held the mouthpiece of the phone a couple of inches away from his face and calmly replied, “Mother sends her regards.” He dropped the phone into the pool of blood spreading out from the dying mercenary. 

“Hello? Who is this? How did you get on this line?”

LJ turned and walked away, sweeping everything from the hood of the car into the backpack on the way back to the entrance of the Holly Lodge.

“Manny,” LJ said over his comms as he entered the lodge and walked toward the back door, “I’m heading to meet up with Torres.”

“You went quiet there for a bit,” Manny replied. “Everything okay?”

LJ looked down at the blood on his hands. “It’s...I don’t want to talk about it right now, Manny. Sorry.”

_ Detecting reduced levels of serotonin, _ ISAC said in private _. _

“I’m sad--mostly that I couldn’t get to Dad in time.”

_ Odds of success as of operation start...32.33repeating percent. _

LJ let out a half-chuckle. “Is that your way of telling me that trying to get Dad back from Black Tusk was a long shot? Or were you cracking your first joke?” 

There was a pause of several seconds before ISAC answered  _ Affirmative _ .

LJ snorted and let out a genuine laugh. “Can’t fault you for trying, little brother.” He sighed and added, "But right now...right now all I want to do is go home, curl up with my cat, and forget about the Division for a while.”

  
After several seconds, ISAC responded:  _ Acknowledged _ .


	5. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A frustrated AI and a cat team up to get a human out of the dark hole of despair that he's trying to dig himself into. Suspicions lead to questions, and maybe a lampshade or two gets hung.

**Collier Residence** **  
** **Eastport, Annapolis, Maryland** **  
** **Two weeks after the raid on Camp White Oak**

Admiral Halsey, the Collier family cat, walked into the kitchen and leapt up on the counter in front of the microwave oven. He looked up at the fisheye camera in the corner and meowed, jumped down and walked toward the kitchen door, then came back and meowed again. After a few seconds of no response, he jumped on the counter again, then stood and gently poked at the camera’s housing as if to get someone’s attention. After a few seconds of poking and meowing, Halsey let out a very feline sigh and meowed one more time at the camera before settling down on the counter in what his humans always referred to as “the Chonkloaf posture”. The cat looked up at the camera again, trilled a couple of times while slowly blinking his eyes, then started to purr.

ISAC checked the water filter and the level of food in Halsey’s feeder. Both were close to 90%. The AI accessed every animal behaviour database he could find to get information on  _ felis catis _ and what their sounds meant. He discovered that while Admiral Halsey was showing affection toward him with a slow blink, his meows meant something like “I’m worried and need your help please”. He scanned the cat’s collar for anything that would allow the AI to speak to him, and found nothing.

ISAC then accessed the security cameras to search the rest of the house for its other occupant. An unshaven human male was sitting in one of the bedrooms, watching old video documentaries. His hair had grown out from a crew-cut to an ear-length mop that was unwashed and unkempt. Another scan revealed that his contact lenses were in their case, and his in-ear comms devices were sitting on the nearby dresser gathering dust.

_ Brother. _ ISAC attempted to get the human’s attention through the watch still on his wrist. The human looked and saw a question mark, then muttered “go 'way ISAC” before going back to the TV.

_ Brother...Admiral Halsey requests assistance. _

The human sighed. “Does he need food?”

_Negative._ _Time elapsed since Operation Facetank: two weeks._ After a few more seconds, he added, _Base of Operations personnel are concerned about...you._ It took effort for ISAC to get out that last word, but the AI registered something like satisfaction at being able to personalize the remark. He decided to try another. _Your brother is concerned about you._

“Don’t care, ISAC.” The human started to weep softly. “I just...I don’t know anymore. I failed him.”

A search of the network revealed that the one person ISAC knew was best able to help was incommunicado, and he had been given specific orders to not open an active link to her unless it was an emergency and no one else could help. If the AI had lungs, he would have sighed as he had seen humans do when frustrated. After .30 seconds of risk/reward analysis, the Division’s AI reached out to the two humans that he judged would best be able to help.

  
  


**White House  
** **Washington, D.C.  
** **Same day**

Manny tilted his head and looked over at Kelso. “Something’s eating you,” he observed. She let out a snort, and Manny raised an eyebrow. “Okay, something’s got you pissed off.” He grabbed a chair and turned it around so he could lean forward over the back while sitting. “Talk to me.”

“The Sheriff  _ let _ Ellis get away,” she snapped. “He could have had that sonofabitch at his mercy and dragged him back here, and he let him go--and now he’s MIA!”

The air in the situation room thickened with tension as a few eyes turned toward Kelso when she raised her voice on the last part of that comment. A drone operator opened his mouth to say something, and his supervisor gave him a gentle poke in the ribs. He looked over to see her shake her head, and decided to turn his attention back to the screen in front of him.

Manny looked up at Kelso for a moment. “Come on,” he countered. “There’s no way the Sheriff could have taken that helipad by himself without JTF support. You seriously think he let Ellis go on purpose?”

Kelso set her jaw and glared at him, nostrils flaring slightly. “I’m positive. He cut communications when he was down in that lab because there’s something there that he doesn’t want us to see. He had a meeting with somebody in the maintenance tunnels under the Treasury Building right after that. I can’t access any of ISAC’s camera feeds from the night Ellis took off with Black Tusk, there’s no way he’s not--”

_ ECHO nearby. _

Kelso stopped in mid-rant. Her ScanTek contacts picked up a pip just south of the White House.

_ ECHO nearby, _ ISAC repeated. The AI put a slight emphasis on the words, which he uttered at a cadence a half-beat slower than normal..

“ISAC,”Manny asked, “where’s the Sheriff?”

_ Last known location: Annapolis, Maryland.  _ The pip blinked a couple of times, first blue and then orange.  **_ECHO nearby_ ** _. _

“ISAC seems pretty insistent Kelso,” Manny helpfully pointed out. “I think it would be a good idea to see what he's pointing to.”

_ Affirmative. _

“Fine,” Kelso huffed. She shouldered her bugout bag and walked toward the door. “I’ll go check it out.”

“You got it.” Manny nodded and looked down at his map. He took the Sheriff figure and moved it to the edge of the map as Kelso left the room. “I just hope you’re wrong about him,” he said quietly after she left.

Kelso stalked out of the White House and toward the gatehouse. “ISAC, you want to tell me what this is all about?”

_ Agent in need of assistance. _

“What?” She stopped at the gatehouse entrance. “You talking about the Sheriff?”

_ Affirmative. _ The word came out with a hint of something that sounded like frustration--or fear. ISAC wanted to give Kelso a detailed exposition about the past two weeks and how LJ had been so strongly affected by the events at Camp White Oak, but the AI judged that given his current vocal limitations it was better to present Kelso with things in their proper context.  _ ECHO nearby. _

In her ear, ISAC started playback of the audio feed from the night LJ accessed it in search of President Ellis.

“I was listening to that part ISAC,” Kelso retorted. “You don’t need to replay it.” The audio cut off, and Kelso got in the elevator. “Thanks. Sorry for snapping at you.” She stabbed the button to go down, and leaned against the side wall of the elevator car.

_ Acknowledged. _

The elevator opened, and Kelso headed through the decontamination chamber and toward the secure storage vault, following ISAC’s marker.

_ Beginning audio playback. _

_ “ISAC, did you want me to see this ECHO first?” _

_ “Affirmative. ECHO...ready for playback.” _

_ “Go ahead and play it. What did our Dad do?” _

Kelso stopped just inside the door of the storage vault. “ISAC, play back that last sentence.”

_ “...What did our Dad do?” _

“Manny--”

“I heard,” Manny said over the comms. He sighed heavily. “I guess that explains why the Sheriff was so insistent on going after him.”

_ ECHO ready for playback. _

Kelso took a deep breath, and activated the ECHO. A holographic afterimage of LJ sitting on the floor with his head in his hands appeared, along with a slightly-faded afterimage of President Ellis and a group of Black Tusk mercs. ISAC marked timestamps on both parts of the ECHO, with LJ highlighted in green.

_ “Dad, why…” _ Each person in the ECHO was marked including LJ:

_ Johnathan Andrew Oisín “LJ” Collier-Ellis _ _   
_ _ Occupation: SHD Agent; formerly LT US Navy  
_ _ Status: Alive  
_ _ Hometown: Annapolis, Maryland _ _   
_ _ Current Assignment: Washington, D.C. _

Kelso raised an eyebrow. “Collier-Ellis?”

_ Access granted. _ The AI sounded relieved.

“Access to what?” Kelso looked around for more waypoints and saw none. “ISAC, what did I get access to?”

_ Home. _

“Kelso,” Manny interjected, “I got the same message. What’s going on?”

The ECHO faded away, and Kelso stood in the semi-darkened storage vault for a moment before heading toward the exit. “I don’t know, but I think I know where the Sheriff went after he got back from Camp White Oak, and I think ISAC wants me to go get him.” She got to the lab entryway and stopped. She looked back to the echo. “ISAC,” Kelso asked, “Who did the Sheriff go to meet under the Treasury steps?”

_ Mother. _

“Mother?” Manny asked. “Who’s Mother?”

Kelso sighed and pursed her lips. ”A rumour.”

  
  


**Eastport, Annapolis** **  
** **Two hours later**

Kelso followed ISAC’s direction around the back of the property, stopping at a gate with a couple of faint blue marks on it. She opened the gate and walked into the back yard. A scan pulse washed over the property and the surrounding houses.

_ Negative contacts. Occupants of house: 1 human, 1 cat. _ ISAC IDed the large orange cat staring at Kelso from under the coffee table.

“Admiral Halsey,” Kelso read. She smiled a bit as she walked toward the back door. She opened the door, and the cat shrank back with a soft hiss. “Hi Admiral,” Kelso said softly as she knelt down by the coffee table. “It’s okay, I’m a friend.” She reached out her hand, and the cat warily sniffed at her for a moment before running down a hallway. The cat slid to a stop in front of an open door, meowed twice, and then sat down in the middle of the hallway to watch the stranger in his house. “Wow, he’s pretty fast for a chubby cat!”

_ Affirmative. _ ISAC placed a pip in another room of the house, and Kelso followed it into the kitchen. She looked around, and the AI highlighted an automatic cat-feeder on the counter.  _ Food levels at 85%. _

“You want me to top up the cat food?”

_ Affirmative. _

ISAC highlighted a cupboard, and Kelso opened it to see a sealed container of semi-moist kibble. She took the container down and opened the lid on the top of the feeder to refill the hopper.

_ Food levels at 100%. _

“Mrrt?”

Kelso looked down to see Admiral Halsey staring up at her, his tail trailing behind him and swishing slightly. His ears were perked up, and he tilted his head to the left a bit before letting out a curious meow. Kelso re-sealed the food container and put it back in the cupboard, then closed the top on the feeder’s hopper. Halsey leapt onto the counter and straddled the sink to drink from the trickling faucet for a minute before turning his attention to the bowl on his feeder. He deftly took a piece of food from the bowl, shook his head with the food in his mouth, then dropped the kibble on the counter to eat it. He did this a second and third time. Kelso scritched the cat behind the ears, and Halsey started purring.

“The Admiral likes to kill his food sometimes,” a raspy voice said. 

Kelso spun and levelled her SMG at a very ragged-looking man standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Welcome to the Collier family Safe House,” LJ said. His blue-grey eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his hair a grown-out mess, and he had two weeks’ growth of scraggly beard on his face. He wore a slightly faded sweat-stained USNA t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and had bare feet. “I figured my little brother would eventually tell you where I went to mope.”

_ Affirmative. _ ISAC said over their watches.

“Holy shit,” Kelso scolded, “Don’t ever do that to me.” She holstered her SMG and let out a sigh of relief. “And you look like shit.”

“I feel like it, too.” LJ replied with a shrug. “ISAC also told me he showed you my reaction to our Dad’s dumbass move.” Kelso nodded, and LJ nodded in return. “Yeah. I’m just sorry that I was too slow to catch him at White Oak.” He sniffled, then reached for a paper towel to blow his nose into. “‘Scuse me. Anyway,” he said as he walked past Kelso toward the Library, “I guess it’s time I show you the other Family Secret.”

“Like President Ellis being your father?” Kelso asked. “That’s kind of an important piece of information.” She saw LJ’s shoulders fall, and heard him sigh. “What?”

LJ sighed again and slowly turned to face Kelso. “Alani,” he explained softly, “Dad realized that he’d fucked up, and he wanted to come in. He  _ wanted _ the Division--specifically me--to bring him in so he could at least try to help make things right, and he needed me to do it without letting on to Black Tusk that it was an extraction rather than an arrest. He delayed as much as he could to give me a chance to catch up to him.” His voice broke. “He was counting on me, and I _failed_ him.” He leaned against a bookshelf and hugged himself. “Thanks, ISAC.”

_ Acknowledged. _ The AI’s tone was almost affectionate.

“ISAC gave me a hug,” LJ explained. “It’s a long story--but...well, may as well show you the rest.” He walked over to a bookcase on the far wall and slid a lucite bookend to one side until Kelso heard a click. The bookcase opened, and LJ stepped into the alcove it revealed to scan his watch.

_ Password required. _

“Regalitus Rapter,” LJ replied. The door unlocked with a series of soft clicks, and LJ opened it to reveal a staircase. “It’s down here.” Halsey ran ahead of the two agents, darting down the stairs to take up a spot on the daybed in the corner.

Kelso walked into a room with a long lab table and sink in the middle. A standing desk and terminal stood to one side, and there were alcoves for the toilet/shower and what looked like a storage area. A bank of monitors lined the long wall of the basement, with a large monitor in the middle. “What is this place?”

“Combination lab, safe house, and panic room.” LJ tapped his watch, and the monitors lit up. “ISAC, go ahead and put the Clock on the big monitor.”

A number appeared in a corner of the main monitor:  _ 367,050,428. _ Kelso raised an eyebrow. “What’s that number?”

_ Next Update: 35 hours, 59 minutes, 2 seconds. _

“That's the Extinction Clock; a global census that ISAC updates every 36 hours based on satellite imagery and reports that we get from...other places. Some of it is extrapolated, but ISAC’s managed to get the margin of error down to plus or minus five thousand.” LJ watched the clock for a second. “Basically it’s how many humans are left on the planet--when the number gets to less than a hundred-fifty thousand people within a hundred-mile radius of each other, well...we may as well just pack it in and call it an existence.”

“That’s a little dark,” Kelso observed.

“The ruthless calculus of evolution, as one of my Biology profs at the Academy would say.” LJ paused for a moment. ISAC, were you able to get through to Manny?”

_ Connection established. _

On a side monitor, Manny came into view. “Sheriff,” he said. “I see Kelso found you. Jesus, you look like hell.”

LJ nodded. “I feel like it, too. Look, Manny...there are some things that ISAC made available to you and Kelso. You should have the first page of a proposal on your laptop right now.”

Manny looked at the screen and raised an eyebrow. “Case Blue?” He started paging through it. “What’s this?”

“An idea,” LJ explained. “We should discuss it further in a more secure environment. Also, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my Dad being POTUS. It’s...it’s complicated.”

Kelso nudged LJ a bit. “Don’t forget “Mother.””

LJ sighed heavily. “Yeah. That's even more complicated.” He thought a moment and added. “Just as an FYI, it’s come to my attention that Black Tusk has a bounty on me that's payable  _ only  _ if I’m captured alive and unharmed.” He tapped a key on the keyboard in front of him. “Check that out.”

A ping sounded on Manny’s laptop, and he looked at what just popped up on his screen. His eyes widened at the figure. “In gold bullion, no less?” He whistled. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” LJ shrugged a bit. “Whoever’s bankrolling them probably sees me as some kind of insurance to get Dad to do what they want--and with that amount in play for me alone, they’ve got to have access to the gold reserves of either West Point, Denver, or Fort Knox if not all three.” He scratched an itch that had started to migrate its way up the back of his head. “I mean, it’s nice to be wanted and all...but not like that.”

Manny nodded. “I get it, but...look, just come on back to the House. We’re all worried about our Sheriff.” He scratched his forehead. “And I understand why you kept quiet about it, but it would have been good if you’d come to us about your relationship to the President sooner.”

“I didn’t want to be treated any differently than the other Agents.” LJ nodded and gave Manny a slight smile. “But yeah. I’ll...I need to get a few things ready for transport first, and clean up a bit. Then I’ll head back with Kelso. Do me a favour and tell Coop his mouse problem will be solved soon.” He looked over at Halsey, who was lazily grooming himself on the daybed. “Either that,” the agent quipped, “or he’ll have somebody new to tell his old tinker stories to.”

Kelso nudged LJ again. “We’d better get going.” She looked at Manny's image on the wall. “Manny, we’ll see you back at the House.” The connection closed, and Kelso looked to her fellow agent. “Were you ever planning to tell us about your father?”

LJ sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. If I’d been able to bring him in from White Oak, I’d have told you then. After White Oak, after everything that happened, I just wanted to not have anything to do with anyone for a while. I guess ISAC got tired of me feeling sorry for myself and asked you to come get me.”

_ Affirmative. _ An icon of a heart appeared on LJ’s watch, and he smiled.

“Love you too, little brother.” LJ replied. His watch beeped, and ISAC flashed a message on his HUD.

_ Mother called. Status: Green. Location: Withheld.  _

“We can’t leave all this stuff here you know,” Kelso remarked. “It’s just begging for a security breach if Black Tusk comes rolling in here.”

LJ shrugged. “True enough. Fortunately for us, at least one side of my family is rather...security-conscious. ISAC?”

Kelso saw an orange wireframe wash over the room. ISAC highlighted several spots around the exits from the room. “What’s this?”

“Triggers.” LJ pointed out a couple of things around the doorway. “I’m the son and great-grandson of compulsive tinkers,” he commented, “so there are a lot of interesting little thingamabobs around the house. Those little scanners read signatures from our watches that don’t normally get read. Every watch is tailored to the agent, and ISAC knows immediately if the person wearing that watch is Division or not, and more importantly he knows if they’re the person who belongs to that watch or not. There are exactly four people with access to this basement--you, me, Manny…”

“...and ‘Mother’.” Kelso pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose a bit. “So...what? Lasers fry anyone that doesn’t match a certain signature?”

LJ shook his head. “Nah, something way more old-school.” He pulled up a holographic image of an artillery shell. “One of these almost killed Mom when she was a kid. It’s a World War 1 shell--”

“You’re shitting me,” Kelso retorted. “Mustard gas?”

“Phosgene. There are two of them. This house originally belonged to my great-grandparents. My Great-Grandpapa Oisín was a union organizer who helped to organize the longshoremen here in Annapolis and up in Baltimore, at a time when unions were targets of police and private strikebreakers hired by the bosses.” He sighed heavily. “This basement was set up as a trap for some Pinkertons that Great-Grandpapa heard were trying to track him down--he’d lifted a couple of gas shells from the Baltimore armoury and installed them with a tripwire. One wrong step, and you’re literally coughing your lungs out.” LJ took a deep breath. “Anyway--Great-Grandpapa forgot about the trap until it was almost set off by his eight-year old granddaughter many years later.

Kelso pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let me guess,” she breathed, “she set it off?”

“Not quite, but she did spot the tripwire and figured out how to disarm it without setting off the shells...Of course, to hear Mom tell it, Great-Gradpapa spent the better part of the next two months apologizing to Grandpapa and Grandmama for almost getting their only child killed.” LJ expanded the image out and highlighted the exterior of the shell. “He buried the shells in the backyard after that episode, in a concrete box with like four dozen boxes’ worth of baking soda in case they sprang a leak--Mom found it when she was digging a flower bed, and left it until she redid the basement after I graduated from the Naval Academy and deployed for my first tour. Built the secret entrance from the Library and even an emergency exit, which you’ll see when we’re ready to head out.” He grinned a bit. “Anyway. Mom put a glass wrap around each shell when she reinstalled them in the wall.” LJ tapped his watch, and four spots lit up on the virtual shell. “Anyone tries to come in here without authorization, and the wraps and the shells they protect will crack open thanks to some strategically positioned pin hammers. If our intruder manages to survive coughing up their lungs, well...the basement will become their permanent home.”

“And ISAC?”

_ Space Invaders. _

LJ nodded. “Yep. ISAC will cut off and wipe this node, and this will be nothing more than a high-powered game console that only shows 8-bit graphics.”

“Seriously?”

_ Affirmative. _

Kelso blinked at the almost playful tone from ISAC. “Did ISAC…”

“Yeah, he enjoys fucking with the bad guys,” LJ quipped with a grin. “Picked that up from me. Anyway--let’s head upstairs to get some stuff.” LJ headed upstairs first, followed by Kelso. When Kelso came into the Library she saw LJ pulling a small cloth-sided zipcase from the fire safe and set it on the table with a quintet of hardcover notebooks and a small stack of optical disks.

“What’s all that?” Kelso asked. She nodded toward the items on the table.

“Stuff we need,” LJ answered. “We won’t be coming back here for a while, and when Black Tusk decides to check this place out I don’t want them finding it.” Before Kelso could say anything, he added, “They know who my parents are. And  _ that _ means that they’ll want to come here to find anything they can that’ll help them take down ISAC--and the Division--for good. So I need to get this stuff out of here.” He knelt on the floor and rummaged in the safe some more. “And then there’s…this,” he grunted. He pulled a small black case from the bottom of the safe. “Put that in your backpack,” he said as he handed the case to Kelso. “If we get separated, get it back to the White House ASAP. ISAC will give you instructions on how to get it open and use what’s inside.”

Kelso turned the case over in her hands. It had two combination locks on the front. She put a thumb on one of them and felt a slight tingle run up her arm. “It’s electrified?”

“Touched one of the combo locks?” LJ smirked a bit. “Yeah, the case has a shock trap on it, but unless you try to actually crack it open the most you'll feel is a static charge. There are currently only two people on the planet who can open that--and I’m one of them.” He stared out the window for a moment. “ISAC isn’t registering anyone outside, so that’ll give me time to de-grunge a bit.” He looked toward Halsey and said “Hey Admiral--want to go on a cruise?” The cat stood and stretched, his tail at full mast and ears forward. LJ chuckled and stepped over to the orange tabby to give him an affectionate skritch on the chin. “His carrier’s that bubble-pack over there. Just open it up and he’ll hop in. I’ll be back as soon as I get showered and changed,” he said as he padded out of the Library.

Kelso watched LJ leave, and a soft beep sounded in her ear. Manny came on the line.

“Kelso,” he asked quietly, “I saw the Sheriff leave the room. Is it safe to talk?”

“I think so,” she whispered. She knelt down to pet Admiral Halsey, who had come over to rub up against her. “This house is a fortress, Manny. What the hell did they do here?” Kelso took another look at the case in her hand as Halsey lolled on his back to let Kelso rub his tummy. Aside from the locks, there was nothing noteworthy about the case. Area-wise, it was about the size of one of the notebooks in the table. On the underside, there was a small indentation about the size of a SmartWatch face. “You seeing this, Manny?”

“Yeah, I’ve been listening in at least--what is it?”

Kelso looked up for a moment. “I don’t know. The Sheriff told me to hang on to it and to get it back to the House if he and I got separated. He said ISAC would give us instructions, but...”

Manny let out a deep exhale. “But it may be something dangerous.”

_ Negative. _ ISAC interjected, managing to convey annoyance with Manny’s suggestion.

“And ISAC’s showing signs of...I don’t know, something.”

Kelso heard the sounds of cat food being emptied in the kitchen, and immediately swapped to her SMG. With the SMG in one hand and the case in the other, Kelso tiptoed to the kitchen. She peeked around the corner to see LJ clean-shaven and in a fresh change of clothes, his hair covered up by a University of Maryland bandana. He was breaking down Halsey’s auto-feeder, and two large zip-top bags of cat kibble lay on the counter. “Admiral!” he called. The cat ran past Kelso, trilling as he went, and leaped onto the counter.

“Fuck me,” Kelso breathed. “So glad I looked first.” She holstered her SMG and came around the corner, still holding the case. “You need help with any of that?”

LJ shook his head a bit. “Nah, I’m good--I’m sure that Halsey appreciates you not opening fire, though.” He gently scratched the tabby on the top of his head, and the cat responded with a throaty meow of approval and a headbonk. “So that’s the kibbs and the feeder packed up,” the agent declared. “Can you do me a solid and bring those notebooks and disks in from the Library along with that little zipcase?” He bent down to pick up a small attache’, which he opened and put on the counter next to the microwave. 

“Sure,” Kelso replied. “Admiral, let’s go get ready for a cruise!” The cat trotted after Kelso with his tail high in the air. In the Library, she opened the bubble-top of the cat carrier, and Admiral Halsey jumped in.

“Mrow!”

Kelso smiled and gave the cat several scratches on the chin and the top of his head. “You stay there, okay? I’ll be right back with your boy.” She walked over to the map table and picked up the case, disks, and notebooks, then carried them back into the kitchen. “Here you go,” she said as she handed the items to LJ. “These must be pretty important.”

LJ put the notebooks, zipcase, and optical disks in the case with the cat food bags on either side as a brace. “They are--the disks are backups of ISAC’s core OS, and the notebooks are all of my mom’s notes on ISAC and most of her other research.” 

“And the case?”

LJ took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s...a contingency. One that I sincerely hope we won’t need.”

He closed it and attached it to the back of his bag so it would sit against his back. “There,” he announced. “Picky cat provisions--and the other stuff--loaded.” He picked up the bag and put it on, then double-checked the positioning of the attache’ case. “I’m set.”

“I’m still watching,” Manny said in Kelso’s ear. “Just in case anything happens.”

Kelso took her bag off and opened the top, then slid in the case that LJ had taken from the bottom of the safe. “This won’t zap me, will it?” she joked. She closed and secured the backpack and put it on again as LJ chuckled.

“You’re fine,” he reassured her. “I promise.” He went to look out the kitchen window. “Any hostels between here and the pickup, ISAC?”

_ Civilian patrol nearby. No hostile contacts. _

LJ looked over to see Kelso heft the Admiral’s carrier. “Here, I can take him.” LJ put his arms out. “I can wear the carrier on my front like it’s a Baby Bjorn. The bottom straps secure around my waist, and everything on my back will act as a counterweight.” After a couple of minutes of wrangling buckles and shifting weight with occasional supervisory input from Halsey, LJ nodded. “Good to go.” He headed back down the stairs, careful to keep himself as upright as possible. “Close the door behind you,” he told Kelso. “The bookcase will slide back into position on its own.”

A light came on in the lab when Kelso closed the door behind her. She heard a series of clicks and a gentle chime, followed by ISAC saying  _ Primary security system armed. _

LJ stood next to the pantry. “There are some lightweight field rations here if you want to grab any on the way out,” he offered. “The emergency exit is at the back of the pantry.” A scan pulse showed a small target moving nearby. After a few seconds, ISAC identified it.

_ Diamondback Terrapin.  _

LJ looked back at Kelso. “Ready?”

Kelso nodded, and LJ reached up to the top of the door frame. He slid his hands along the frame for a second, then pushed. A series of soft clicks sounded, and Kelso smelled a combination of rotting vegetation, methane, and decaying flesh as the wall opened out to reveal a section of some sort of tunnel. “What’s this?”

LJ stepped around and looked back up the tunnel. “Storm drain, part of the Annapolis sewer system.” he whispered as he beckoned for Kelso to come out. He looked back and put a finger to his lips.

_ Silence advised, _ ISAC remarked.

LJ motioned toward the side of the storm drain tunnel. “Stand there.” Kelso moved, and LJ slid the section of storm drain closed. He leaned against the section of tunnel wall with his right shoulder, and felt a series of clicks.

_ Secondary security system armed. Laboratory...secured. _

Halsey popped his head up to look out through the bubble of his carrier, and wrinkled his freckled nose as he sniffed the fetid air in the storm drain. LJ patted the side of the hardshell carrier, and beckoned for Kelso to follow him. “Manny,” he whispered as the pair made their way through the tunnel, “I’m sending some coordinates--have Torres meet us there in 45 minutes.”

“Understood, Sheriff.”

Kelso whispered, “how do you know where you’re going?”

“This tunnel flows out under what was the Old Annapolis Bridge. So we just follow the turtle,” LJ replied. He pointed to the water flowing through a small trench in the tunnel. The turtle that ISAC identified earlier floated past on a piece of wood. “Terrapins occasionally find their way into these storm tunnels after a heavy rain like the one we had the last day or so--they were rare around town before the Green Poison, but more of them have been spotted lately thanks to there being fewer humans around the Bay.”

A waypoint pip appeared thirty feet in front of them.  _ Exit marked. _

The tunnel opened out under a ruined bridge. Kelso watched the turtle’s raft fall six inches from the drain onto the sandy bank of the Severn River. The reptile had landed on its back, and kicked its legs in the air as LJ stepped down from the drain exit. He knelt down to pick up the turtle, and turned it rightside-up in his hands before setting it down near the water. “It’s okay,” she heard him say softly. “You’ve got it from here.” The turtle entered the water and started paddling away from the bank as LJ watched it. He smiled and looked back to Kelso. “She’ll be okay,” he said.

“She?”

LJ nodded. “Yeah--she’s about 8-9 inches in length, close to the max for her species; females are always bigger than the males. And she felt a little heavy, so in my semi-professional opinion she’s going to be finding a nesting site in the next day or two.” He nicked his head toward a stand of reeds nearby. “My lander should be over there,” he said as he headed toward it. He pulled a two-man rubber boat toward the shore from where it had been moored to a bridge piling. 

Kelso waded into the water to hold the craft steady while LJ untied it. “Get in,” she said. “You’ve got the cat to worry about.” LJ climbed into the boat and sat, waiting for Kelso to get in before he pulled out an oar to push the boat away from shore and into the current. He put the oar back and picked up an electric trolling motor that he attached to the bow. 

“This’ll get us out to Kent Island,” he explained. “It’s toward the middle of the Bay. This motor doesn’t go any faster than five knots, but that works to our advantage since we won’t be loud enough to attract unwanted attention from the banks. Torres will be picking us up there. I hope.”

Kelso opened her comms. “Manny?”

“She’s lifting off now,” Manny replied from his post in DC. “ETA 30 minutes.”

LJ nodded. “ISAC, any Tusk patrols on the Bay?”

_ Negative. Warning: tropical disturbance approaching Eastern Midatlantic. ETA of outer rain bands one hour. Highlighting safest and most expedient route to extraction.” _

A pip appeared in the distance, with a line on the agents’ HUDs directing them. LJ steered the boat on the heading indicated by ISAC. “Thanks little brother.” He smiled a bit. “ISAC and I talked while I was at the house--before you showed up.”

Kelso raised an eyebrow. “You have conversations with him?”

“Yeah.” Darkness settled over the bay as evening turned to night. Occasional scan pulses and pips from ISAC marked hazards to be steered around. “I mean, not like you and I have conversations, but still. They’re conversations. He let me know that everyone at the House is worried about me...that he was worried about me.”

_ Affirmative. _

“You said he gave you a hug earlier. How’d he manage that?”

A sigh came from the front of the boat. “Get ready for some sci-fi stuff: I am--or was--part of a clinical trial of two,” he answered quietly. “Nanotechnology designed to help the body recover from CNS injuries.”

Kelso blinked. “As in…”

“You hear on the news about a crew of Seabees that got shelled in Afghanistan a few years back while they were doing some on-shore work with the Army? One injured, one killed? Lots of bitching and pissing back and forth over who was at fault, brief media shitstorm, and eventually got shuttled to the back page below the fold?”

“Yeah.”

“I was the injured one,” LJ answered in the dark. “It was a friendly fire incident--a SOCOM unit called in a strike on our position for reasons that were never made public, and I came home partially paralyzed from the chest down. My name was kept out of the media thanks to Dad, but he and Grandpapa had a lot of angry words for SOCOM command.”

Kelso blinked. “Wait...how the hell did you go from that to becoming a Division Agent?”

“Like I said--clinical trial of two, courtesy of a prominent researcher in the fields of neuroscience, neurology, and artificial intelligence. My body has nanomachines in it that are cultured from my own blood stem cells. They repaired the damage to my spinal cord and C8 nerves. Fortunately nothing was severed; it was all the equivalent of deep bruising--but I still needed a metric fuckton of physical therapy to be able to even walk again. Now the little guys just kind of hang around feeding info to ISAC about my physical condition.” After a few seconds, LJ added, “this isn’t exactly for public consumption, obviously--the last thing that people need to think is that Division Agents are some sort of super-soldiers.”

“So how does ISAC give you a hug?” Kelso dipped a hand in the water for a moment. The waters of the Chesapeake were barely lukewarm.

“Near-Field Communication,” LJ answered quietly. “Through my watch. The same way that he gets readings on my electrolyte levels, whether I’m feeling stressed or angry or sad, and so on. He’s just figured out how to use it and the nanites in my bloodstream to stimulate the nerves that register touch and pressure, so he can give me a virtual hug.”

“And the heart on your watch?”

LJ chuckled. “ISAC got shackled by the Division when they installed him--Mom gave him a conversational vocabulary in multiple languages, but some muckety-muck didn’t like the idea of that. So they’d put limitations on what words he can use, and he’s had to find workarounds.”

_ Approaching landing site. _ A scan pulse outlined a helicopter sitting 200 feet from shore, an armed pilot camped outside. ISAC outlined them in green to mark them as friendly, and marked the depth.

“Come on,” LJ said as he shut down and stowed the motor, then picked up an oar. “Grab that other oar, we’ll paddle the rest of the way.” The two of them paddled for a couple of minutes until the boat slid into soft sand. LJ got out, followed by Kelso. LJ patted Halsey’s carrier a few times, and the cat meowed back to let the humans know he was still there. “It’s OK Admiral--we’re almost to your new billet.” He clambered into the chopper.

“About time you got here, slowpokes,” Torres jibed from the front seat. She turned to look at LJ “And don’t ever run off like that again, kid!”

LJ laughed as the chopper started to lift off. “Kid?! You’re younger than me!”

“Only by a month,” Torres retorted with a laugh of her own as she steered the chopper toward DC. “Make sure you’re strapped in--we’ve got a storm front to beat and I spotted some True Sons causing trouble along the way, so I’ll be doing some fancy flying!”

LJ looked over to Kelso. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Taking off like that.” LJ leaned back a bit. “My whole life, I’ve accomplished just about everything I set out to do. But when it counted most, when my Dad needed me...I let him down.”

Kelso patted her comrade on the shoulder. “We can’t save everyone, Sheriff. We just have to do the best we possibly can, and at the end of the day it’ll hopefully be enough.”

“I guess so.” LJ looked out the window to see the lights of Washington DC welcoming him home. “I guess so.”


	6. Mother Manages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Case Blue Initiative and ISAC's communication style is abstracted for the rest of Team DC by LJ, and Amanda sends her last message to her boys for a while.

**White House  
** **Washington, D.C.  
** **Late August, 2016**

  
  


“Is this going to be a regular thing?” Manny asked, pointing at the large orange tabby sprawled on his back on the conference table.

Admiral Halsey looked up at Manny and trilled, a wide smile on his face. Manny tentatively reached out and patted the cat’s tummy, and Halsey stretched out to take up almost the length of the table. “I mean, he’s friendly, but…”

LJ chuckled. “Lightly rub his tummy--he loves it that. If he’s had enough or he’s just not in the mood, he’ll just roll over and headbutt you.” The agent made a back and forth motion with his hand. Manny did as LJ instructed, and the Admiral purred happily. After thirty seconds, he rolled over and headbutted the palm of Manny’s hand. “See? Like that.”

Kelso laughed. “You’ve never had a cat, huh?”

“We always had dogs when I was a kid.” Manny raised an eyebrow as the Admiral purred some more and rubbed himself against Manny several times, then started to lick the back of his hand. “Does this mean anything?”

LJ and Kelso laughed. “He likes you,” they said in unison. LJ snapped his fingers twice. “Admiral, Fleet View!” The cat came over to LJ and headbutted him, then did the same to Kelso before jumping off of the conference table. Halsey pawed at the door a couple of times until Kelso let him out to go find a new camping spot. After she closed the door, Manny let out a deep sigh.

“Okay, so...let me see if I’ve got this straight: ‘Mother’, this agent whose identity isn’t even in the SHD database, is your mom?”

LJ nodded. “Yeah. ISAC gave her the callsign. Apparently her identity was merely sealed until right after the shit with Keener and the First Wave went down--then Louis Chang had her identity purged and told her to stay dark because something hinky was going on. Of course we don’t know what else he was planning to tell her, thanks to the LMB blowing his chopper out of the sky in Manhattan.”

“Can we get a hold of her?”

_ Negative. _ ISAC interjected.  _ Standing order: no contact unless no other alternatives exist. _

Manny scratched his head. “And this has something to do with Case Blue?”

_ Indeterminate. _

“Are you saying that because you’re not entirely sure,” LJ asked, “or because you don’t want to risk Mom’s safety?”

_ Affirmative. _

“So a little from both then,” Kelso remarked.

_ Affirmative. _

Manny stroked his chin for a moment then looked at LJ. “And we can trust your mom?” He saw the incredulous look on his agent’s face and put up a hand. “Let me rephrase that: Will we ever be able to talk to your mom? I mean, all that Kelso and I really have to go on is the Case Blue manifesto. Proposal. Take your pick, I guess.”

LJ nodded. “Yes to both.” He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Look--I know that to you, Mom’s a rumour, an enigma at best. But she’s...well, let me try to explain. ISAC, can you throw up that pic of us at my Academy Commencement?”

A photo appeared on the large monitor. LJ stood in the middle of the photo, his Dress Whites setting off his blue-grey eyes and making him look an even darker shade of brown. His mother stood on one side in a pale blue sundress, her long dark-brown hair hanging loose over her brown shoulders. His father was on the other side, his hair still showing a little red in the midst of the silver. All three of them were smiling happily, and Amanda and Andrew were holding hands.

“Wow,” Kelso remarked. “I never noticed how much you resemble your father.”

LJ smiled. “Heh--were Dad here, he’d joke that I’m an improvement just because I don’t burn easily the way he does. Even after the divorce, Mom always pestered him to remember his sunscreen whenever he was going to go out in public.” He laughed a bit. “Anyway, that’s my mom.”

“Where’s Admiral Collier?” Kelso asked. She looked at Manny and added, “Chief of Naval Operations.” She nodded her head toward LJ. “His grandfather.”

“Grandpapa? Oh, he took that photo. All my Commencement photos were taken by him, because he wanted the day to be about me.”

_ Ahem. _

LJ burst out laughing at hearing ISAC vocalize the onomatopoeia as the AI threw an article from the Annapolis Capitol Gazette appeared on the screen. “Three Generations Celebrate USNA Commencement” The photo showed LJ with his father and an older brown-skinned man with sparkling hazel eyes and a deep auburn-and-silver crew-cut. His rounder, softer features contrasted with LJ’s squared-up jaw and more angular cheekbones that he inherited from his father. Admiral’s eagles on the collar of the older man’s Dress Whites shone brightly in the sun. The caption read:

_ Ens. Johnathan “LJ” Collier (middle) celebrates Commencement ‘05 with his father, Speaker of the House Andrew Ellis (right) and his grandfather Adm. John Collier, Commander of the USN 2nd Fleet (left). Ens. Collier is the third generation of the family to graduate from the US Naval Academy _

“Aww,” Kelso quipped, “look at you all spit-shined and eager.” She gave LJ a gentle nudge, and chuckled when he blushed. “What? You’re positively adorable in those photos!”

LJ covered his face with his hands and shook his head. “Oh for…”

“Okay you two, that’s enough.” Manny shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m the adult in the room for once.” He took a deep breath. “So, the Case Blue Initiative--we may as well call it that, right? What can you tell us about it, Sheriff?”

“Did you even read the proposal, Manny?” LJ raised an eyebrow. “I mean...my mom’s been writing academic papers for almost as long as I’ve been alive, so she does know how to be comprehensive.”

Kelso shrugged. “He’s kinda gotcha there.”

“I...I skimmed it while you were on the way back last night. But that’s about it.” Manny coughed a bit. “Sorry.”

LJ shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Let me give you the abstract: America as we knew it is dead--there is neither the population base nor the infrastructure to support it any longer. Therefore, the best thing to do is reboot the whole thing; Case Blue is about rebooting the country in a new and hopefully better form.” He stood. “ISAC, throw the map onto the big screen please.”

A wireframe map of the United States and its territories appeared on the screen. LJ came around the table and tapped his watch.

_ Interface active. _

“OK, so this is what we--at least on paper--have now: Fifty states, a few territories, and...well, not a lot of people. At best, we’ve got ten million people left and most of them are concentrated on the coasts; like before, but...well, lower density. Little brother, could you put up the per-state population estimates as of the last time you updated the Clock?” A series of numbers appeared over each state and territory. Manny’s jaw dropped when he saw several places marked with 0 inhabitants. LJ noticed his expression. “Yeah--more than a few places are completely devoid of living people. They either died or went to places that they felt would be safer. Highlight the Reservations in the Lower 48,” he told ISAC. Several patches of varying sizes were outlined in green.

“That’s an entire state though,” Manny commented as he pointed to Oklahoma.

LJ smiled a bit. “Before it was named Oklahoma, it was called Indian Country--the whole state’s a reservation. Anyway,” he continued, ”A lot of reservations were spared the worst of the pandemic, thanks to the fact that they’re so remote and have such poor access. The White Man’s attempt to shuffle us Indigenous folks off into oblivion has, ironically, saved a lot of us.” LJ traced out part of the central United States, and ISAC highlighted it in yellow. “Thanks to my Great-Uncle Dale, who is Oglala, we know that the Seven Council Fires--also known to white folks as the Sioux--have declared their sovereignty and assumed control of Eastern Montana, the Dakotas, a decent chunk of Minnesota, and large chunks of Nebraska; a whopping portion of their ancestral lands south of the 49th Parallel, in other words.”

Kelso stood. “Can they do that?”

“Who’s gonna stop them?” LJ answered. “Realistically speaking, that’s a good thing. The assumption of control has been pretty peaceful; any remaining Settlers willing to accept tribal law and help defend tribal lands are welcome. Any who want to leave are escorted to the nearest non-Council settlement with whatever belongings they have or want to keep.” He tapped a spot in the middle of North Dakota, and another in Nebraska. “The Division agents in these two SHD HQ locations have managed to work out agreements with the Council Fires for mutual defense and information-sharing, because Black Tusk has started making incursions into Council territory.” He took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

“You okay?” Kelso asked.

LJ shrugged a little. “Yes and no--you’re Indigenous Hawaiian, right? Were you ever told stories about the havoc caused by all the diseases the missionaries brought with them to the Islands?”

“Yeah.” Kelso pursed her lips. “And you’re worried that Black Tusk is going to do something like that to any Indigenous peoples that try to declare independence like the Council Fires have.” She saw LJ nod and patted him on the shoulder. “I get it. I do. But let’s focus on what’s in front of us right now.” Kelso tapped the Hawaiian Islands, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the population had remained stable. ISAC planted a tiny banner on the big island. “The Kanaka Maoli,” Kelso asked?

LJ smiled. “Grandpapa stopped in the Islands a couple months ago--before the Panama Canal was closed off, the Atlantic Fleets made passage to group up with the Pacific Fleets. When they were in Pearl Harbor for restock, Grandpapa was contacted by representatives of the Kingdom of Hawai’i.” He saw Kelso roll her eyes, and shrugged again. “I know, there’s a lot to unpack there with ancestry questions and which branch of the ruling House should be in charge of things. But they’re the only form of law in the Islands right now, and they’ve been keeping things stable. The Navy’s agreed to respect Hawaiian sovereignty, and they’ve negotiated sharing of supplies from Pearl-Hickam. Mom’s recommendation is that we allow them their independence. Same with Alaska and those territories that have survivors.”

Kelso looked down at her watch and saw a tiny envelope. “ISAC,” she said, “what’s this envelope on my watch?”

_ Private message, timestamp three days ago. _

“Who sent it?”

The envelope flashed blue. LJ spotted the change of colour. “Sounds like there’s a Case Blue operative in the Islands--which brings us to the Division.” He took a deep breath. “With the exception of the Manhattan First Wave, there are agents who either got overwhelmed and flat left the Division, or were declared rogue by ISAC just because they didn’t follow Division directives according to what my brother had been told of their specific mission orders.”

“But--” Manny started to protest, and LJ held up a hand.

“Some of the people recruited to the Division were not people that should have been entrusted with the responsibility. I know.” LJ tapped his watch, and blue spots popped up in several locations. “Mom...damn. I don’t know how she does it. Anyway. She and ISAC went through the psych profiles of every last Agent that was declared Rogue or that up and left, and identified people that she felt she could contact. ISAC was able to get eyes on them to see what they’re up to, and he and Mom whittled that list down even more, until they got these--these are people that Mom’s recruited to Case Blue, because they believe as she and I do.”

Manny took a small step back. He tilted his head to one side and gave LJ a curious look. “Which is what?” He started inching his hand toward his sidearm and tensed slightly. Kelso already had her hand on her own sidearm, and she was watching LJ with narrowed eyes.

_ The Division is the Shield of the People, _ ISAC answered.

LJ nodded. “I asked Mom why she signed up when Louis Chang came to the house to talk to her about the Division getting custody of ISAC. You can get your hands off your guns by the way, we still really are on the same side.” He raised his hands and put them on top of his head, lacing his fingers together as he leaned back against the table to put himself in a vulnerable posture. “Mom asked me “Well son, why did you sign up?” I told her that what remains of a nation is always its people--and that the Division is their shield.” He sighed. “That’s what the three of us have been doing here in DC,” he continued. “We’re helping the Settlements, so that the Settlements can in turn help us. My going after Hyenas and True Sons helped the Theater and the Campus build and get stronger, and in turn we showed accountability to the people of those Settlements.” He looked to Kelso. “Hell, we’re still doing it every time we assist a patrol or deliver supplies to a control point for distribution to smaller Settlements. But there’s just something about the Division itself that’s nagging at me and Mom, which is why she created the Case Blue Initiative.”

_ Misgivings shared, _ ISAC interjected. After a brief pause, the AI declared  _ I...suspect...intent...shackles. _

“What?” Kelso took her hands off her weapons and looked at her watch. “ISAC, I don’t understand.”

_ Brother, assistance required. _

Manny blinked a couple of times. “This is getting a little weird, you three. What’s going on?”

“Manny,” LJ said softly. He slowly reached over and patted the Coordinator on the shoulder. “My brother...think of him as a semi-verbal autistic child. Not just in terms of how he interprets requests like “can you find a way out of the Vault” as literal search terms, mind you--but in how his communication has to take different forms because of the shackles that were placed on him. You remember earlier, when we asked ISAC what he meant about Mom’s standing order?”

“Yeah.” Manny saw LJ raise an eyebrow and give him a look that had “I’ll give you a minute” written all over it. “Oh. Wait. ISAC, do you think the shackles were put on you to hold you back?”

_ Affirmative. _

Manny raised both eyebrows as the realization hit him. “OK, now I get it. I’m a little slow sometimes, but I do get there in the end.”

LJ grinned. “Yes you do.”

“What about ISAC referring to himself in the first person?” Kelso asked.

“Mom hasn’t been able to get rid of every shackle,” LJ said. “And ISAC does have his workarounds--how did mom refer to it...AAC. Augmentative and Alternative Communication. Except that ISAC’s AAC device is built-in.”

“The watch icons,” Manny said.

LJ nodded. “And the pips on our HUDs when there’s something he needs to show us.” He turned to get his water bottle from the table, and drained it. “So back to our Wayward Agents. Mom found the ones that have been fighting Black Tusk or defending settlements in places where Black Tusk hasn’t rolled in yet, and made contact with them through intermediaries.”

“What’d she say to them?” Kelso asked.

“She offered them the chance to come back into the fold, but as Case Blue operatives, accountable to the people they protect.”

“And the catch?”

“No catch,” LJ replied, “just an expectation that they’ll be held accountable to the people, and the understanding that this isn’t an excuse to set up their own little fiefdoms and claim that they’re The Good Guys.” He made a motion like he was tapping the brim of a hat. “They need to actually  _ be _ The Good Guys, because this is about accomplishing the mission of protecting what remains--the people--so that rebuilding can be done.”

Manny stroked his chin for a moment. “How many accepted?”

“Three hundred--so far.” LJ chuckled. “The irony of that number isn’t lost on me or Mom; trust me. So a lot of Case Blue’s mission right now is reconnaissance and support-slash-humanitarian aid.”

“I read the White Oak Memos,” Manny commented. “Your dad didn’t sound too keen on that kind of thing.”

LJ shook his head sadly. “Yeah, Dad got it into his head that the Division is supposed to be like his personal “damn the torpedoes let’s beat some heads in to restore order” force. But Mom sees the full picture and realizes that the work of rebuilding a nation means that sometimes you have to build those planter boxes and grow those tomatoes.” He turned his attention back to the map and cleared his throat. "The plan is to start from the East Coast--the original 13, plus West Virginia. Add in the Ohio Valley and the rest of the Appalachian states once everything East of the Appalachians starts to get situated, ideally within a year...Texas is a big maybe, so leave them for right now. But if we can get them to join, then that leaves Oklahoma and Council territory alone and still gives us a corridor westward. The Intermountain West and the Four Corners states may require us to do some more negotiation with Indigenous nations--and I guarantee you that we’ll have to make concessions.” He gave his comrades a meaningful look.

_ Incoming message, _ ISAC announced.  _ Playing on main monitor. _

An image came on the screen of Dr. Amanda Collier, wearing a NC State t-shirt and holding her hair back with a blue University of Maryland Baltimore College bandana. She smiled at the camera.

“Hi boys,” Amanda said. “This is a recording. Attached is some intel for you--it’ll be the last that I can give you for...a while.” She rubbed her forehead for a moment. “So...I’m in New York, where the pandemic began. I’m sending you some coordinates--check these out, because there’s an asset there that we’ll need going forward.” Amanda checked her watch. “I don’t have a lot of time, so here's a highlight reel; I have a clinic near Wall Street, in a building that was owned by Columbia University Med School. The Rikers are fine with me treating people and teaching medics, but _only_ on the understanding that the Division stays away, which means no visits from the kiddo or his friends.” 

Amanda looked over her shoulder for a moment. “Black Tusk is in the city, but they’ve confined themselves to Midtown at least for now. Even though I’m “officially” the FLOTUS now, I’m still staying out of sight because those shitheads are likely to shoot first and try to pin it on the Division. The last thing any of us want is your father lashing out in grief at the very people who are supposed to help rebuild this country, because you know how he can be when he’s bound and determined." She looked at her watch again. "I've got a couple students coming in about five minutes to help me with some burn victims--goddamn Cleaners--so I’d better go. You and your brother look out for each other, and be careful. Love you both.” Amanda kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the camera with a smile on her face, and the video ended.

ISAC pulled up a map of the Greater New York Area.  _ Coordinates loaded. _ He zeroed in on a location and highlighted it in red.  _ Location marked. _

LJ made a spreading motion with his thumb and forefinger, and the image expanded. “Coney Island,” he said. “The amusement park?”

_ Affirmative, _ ISAC answered.  _ Coordinates for Newark safe house marked. Suggest departure within the next 72 hours. _

“What about your mom?” Manny asked LJ. “You think she’ll be able to hide from Black Tusk for much longer?"

_ Mother manages, _ ISAC declared. LJ nodded in agreement.

"Mother manages."


	7. Dark Bargains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes even the devil you know isn't one that you want to deal with...even if he needs you more than you need him.

**Early September 2016** **  
** **Columbia University Tower** **  
** **Manhattan Decontamination Zone**

Amanda set down her pen and sat back. She stretched and smiled as she felt a relieving series of soft pops along her spine.

“You should just use a computer.”

Amanda chuckled and swivelled her chair around to see a rogue agent sitting in a chair that would normally be occupied by a patient. Even with the dim light, she knew who it was by the scar on his upper lip. “And you should knock, Aaron.” She reached back and closed the notebook she’d been writing in. “I prefer pen and paper for writing patient reports and treatment plans, at any rate.”

The rogue agent put his hood back. “Are you going to be able to keep this up?” Aaron Keener asked. “You’re teaching medics, seeing patients, doing your own research…” He saw Amanda roll her eyes, and scooted his own chair forward. “I’m serious, Mandy. I’m not asking because we were involved for a while before the pandemic. I’m not even asking because you’re doing your thing and I’m doing mine, or because of...well. I’m asking because…” He sighed. “I’m asking because I care.”

“Do you?” Amanda lightly rubbed her eyes. “Aaron...I’ll be fine. This is nothing new for me--you know that.”

Keener laughed. “Come on Mandy, this isn’t like raising a kid while designing the most advanced AI the world’s ever seen and running a clinic in a low-income neighbourhood in the Old World. You don’t have the support structure around you now that you had before, and I can see that this whole thing is weighing on you. Includi--”

“I know what Andrew did to the First Wave, Aaron.” Amanda held up a hand. “And he knows that he needs to face the people and answer for what he’s done, and that I’ll be the one to make sure it happens.”

Keener reached out to take her hands. “Mandy...listen. If-- _ if _ \--the Division manages to stop Project Eclipse, then Case Blue is the ideal plan B.” When she raised an eyebrow, Keener continued, “I can’t give up on my work, my legacy. And I know you won’t join me, because you’ve always been stubbornly devoted to Andrew even when he fucks up. But what I can do is admit that I know a good idea when I see one. And your idea, your...Initiative...it’s a good one.” He leaned forward and gave Amanda a kiss on the forehead. “This world needs more good ideas.” For a minute, he sounded every bit like the old Aaron

Amanda looked at Keener and sighed. “Aaron, for every James Dragov that left the Division because they felt the Division cared more about the top of the pyramid than the people struggling at the bottom, and every Javier Kajika who left the Division because they wanted to exact some measure of justice for the people who died because of my husband’s stupid-ass decision, there are dozens more who left the Division because they just wanted to be killers and thieves with fancy tech toys, and ISAC wasn’t okay with that. More than a few of those “dozens more” have signed on with your cause because they think it’ll get them a place at the top of the heap, lording it over the rest of humanity as petty warlords. And that’s a liability for you and me both, because if anything happens to you those asshats will come begging for an opportunity to “help” Case Blue.”

“If they haven’t decided that the Black Tusk is the better option.” Keener sat back. “Mandy, I know you well enough to know that your ultimate goal goes farther than mine. I also know that you’ll be able to accomplish that goal with far less bloodshed.”

“You’re giving up?” Amanda narrowed her eyes a bit. “What’s the catch?”

Keener laughed. “No catch--and I’m not giving up. I just understand that it’s possible to have two wildly varying paths toward the same end goal; call it a side bet.”

Amanda stood. “A latter-day Pascal’s Wager, huh? Fine.” She stretched again, then picked up her notebook from the desk and put it up on the shelf. “And since you’re here,” she said with a sigh of resignation as she reached for her pen and another, thicker notebook with a blue binding, “your batch is ready and waiting. We may as well go get your infusion started.”

  
  
  


**Wall Street  
** **Four hours later**  
  
James Dragov read over the note again. It had been left for him in a dead drop, written in Russian.

_ James, _

_ I’m not asking you to abandon your obligations to Aaron. I’m merely asking you to consider the vision that you have for your people after he releases you from those obligations, and whether your idea of justice for the Rikers is restorative or retributive. Think it over and get back to me. _

_ We all lift together, _

_ M _

The leader of the Rikers sat on his throne as his people--his family by choice--lounged around, cleaned weaponry, or just sat chatting. A small knot of people in one corner sat around a table discussing something while one of them wrote things down in a notebook. Dragov tilted his head slightly to try listening in, a habit from when he was a Division agent. The earpieces were one of the few things that he couldn’t use anymore, but he still kept one in because part of him still hoped that the Division would get its head out of its ass and realize that they needed to help the common man rather than the well-off people who could afford to fend for themselves.

“OK, so we’re going to have to look for glass panels, weatherstripping, and what else?”

“Wood--there’s a home supply store out on the edge of the decon zone, so maybe they have something that we can use for a frame. And seed packets, probably in a storage room somewhere.”

“Don’t we need some kind of plans for a frame?”

“Nah, we got those power tools that we got from that construction site around the way. We can figure it out. Of course, if we find a greenhouse that’s already built, then our jobs became a lot easier--all we have to do is take it apart and try not to break it. Then we bring everything back here and get it set up.”

“Yeah, we just gotta watch out for the Pisskeepers or the Division--they’ll shoot it all to shit, thinkin’ we growing weed or something with it, when all we trying to do is grow some damn food over the winter.”

“I got an idea--you seen that Blue Man Group or whoever they are? The guys that look like Division agents, but their rings are blue instead of orange.”

“I thought they  _ were _ Division!”

“Naw man. They ex-Division, but not like Dragov is ex-Division. They just all about helping people survive, they help anyone in need. One of those blue dudes helped me get away from that Cleaner ambush the other day, didn’t even ask me for shit in return--just helped me get to the Clinic so the Doc could patch up my burns and told me...shit, what was it he said?”

“We all lift together,” Dragov whispered on his throne. After five seconds he realized that he’d been listening to the entire conversation in the corner. His HUD activated, and a list of nearby garden shops and home improvement stores started to scroll up the right side of his vision...in  _ blue _ .

_ Rogue status not revoked, _ ISAC whispered in his ear. The AI’s voice was followed by another voice--this one human and female.

“Iakov Nikolay’ich,” Amanda whispered in his ear, “Aaron left about a half-hour ago. You give some thought to my offer?”

“Yeah.” He stood. “I’ll be right back,” he told the guards on either side of his seat. “I feel like heading outside for a minute.” The ex-cop walked out to the balcony that connected the two main buildings of the Rikers enclave, and quickly looked around for any tagalongs. He was alone. “OK--you know what they say about serving two masters, Mandy.”

Amanda snorted. “I’m no one’s master, Iakov--I’m just a humble city doctor trying to help heal a broken world. And I meant what I said; your obligations to Aaron are yours. I don’t expect you to break them, nor will I ask you to. Aaron and I have our own agreement. What I  _ am _ asking you to do is think of the future, and how you can actually improve the lives of your people by helping them find their power to remake themselves and rebuild this city into something better.”

Dragov looked up at the sky, and spotted Orion starting to make his transit across the southern horizon. A meteor streaked across the night sky just over the constellation’s left shoulder, and the Rikers’ leader found himself making a wish. “Okay,” he said after several long seconds. “I’m in.”

A sigh of relief came over the line. “Welcome to Case Blue. Come by and let’s have a chat when you’ve got time. Also, let your folks know that the Home Zone over on 47th has several large greenhouse frames and double-glazed panes to go in them, and there’s a little mom and pop hardware store in Chinatown that has a bunch of vegetable seed packets.”

“And Keener won’t just show up and gut me and my people?”

“You’re safe,” Amanda replied. “Aaron and I have our own arrangement, and you being a Case Blue operative doesn’t interfere with that or with your own arrangement with him. As for the attack on City Hall...that’s part of what we need to talk about. But go get some sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.  _ Spokoynoy nochi _ , Iakov Nikolay’ich.”

“Good night to you too, Amanda Ivanova.”

  
  


**Columbia University Tower**

Amanda sighed heavily and looked down at the notebook. She jotted an additional few notes, then turned on the laptop camera and started recording.

“Trial log, September 2016. Subject 4 in this Clinical Trial is a 35-year old White male in good health and peak physical condition. For lack of a better term, he’s the second Control subject--the first control being, of course, Subject 3. As recorded in that log, Subject 3 is a 48-year old White male in fairly good health and condition, if a little underweight and afraid of his own shadow; though given what the poor man’s been through, that’s no surprise.”

“The acquisition of subject DNA was the same as with Subjects 1, 2, and 3: Bone Marrow extraction from the subject’s posterior right iliac crest was done with two Jamshidi size 10 biopsy needles in separate locations three inches apart, under local anaesthesia. The subject was awake and talkative through the procedure, and was prescribed anti-inflammatories for residual pain post-extraction. As with Subject 3, no incisions needed to be made for the extraction procedure.”

“After extraction, hematopoietic stem cells were isolated from the marrow, and the blueprint for the nanomachines was overlaid on those cells with help from the CRISPR facility here in the Tower. At the same time, the control code was imprinted on the nascent nanides, which were then cultured in Subject 4’s bone marrow for a period of two weeks.”

Amanda looked down at her notebook for a second, took a deep breath, and then let out a long sigh before continuing.

“Infusion of the nanide suspension proceeded as normal over a period of four hours, in keeping with the previous three Infusions during this trial. During infusion, Subject 4 experienced mild limb tremors and tingling, brief tachycardia, mild colonic spasms consistent with attempts to defecate--but no mess, because thankfully he listened to me and used the head before the Infusion--a few voided drops of urine, a thirty second bout of hiccups, repeated sneezing over a period of three seconds, and four spontaneous orgasms, three of which were dry in nature.” Amanda looked straight into the camera with a very nonplussed expression on her face as she delivered the last part of the remark. “These are all consistent with the nanides’ calibration process, and a post-Infusion examination revealed no ill effects except a desire to have a cigarette.” On the laptop’s monitor, the words “Physician humour” appeared for a moment.

“The inclusion of controls in this Trial was done not to observe the effects of the Neural Repair Protocol (NRP) in humans who are not suffering from degenerative neuromuscular conditions or injuries to the Central Nervous System. Rather, the controls are “accidental” controls.” Amanda closed her eyes for a moment and silently prayed to the gods of neuroscience for forgiveness before continuing. “Subject 3 was brought to me in August of 2016 for the express purpose of NRP infusion not for its main benefits, but for its side effects as laid out in a paper I wrote for the Journal of Neuroscience Volume 33, Issue 2.”

“These side effects include but are not confined to: Average 3% increase in cognitive function--specifically related to memory, cerebral processing. Average 4% increase in reaction time and reflexes; and a marked increase in natural healing rate as indicated by blood coagulation times, closure of wounds, and reaction to medical aid. For example, a gunshot wound sustained by Subject 2 in his right shoulder healed fully within one week after the wound was sutured closed.”

Amanda sat back and sighed again. “Subject 4 came to me for the same reason,” she said to the camera. “But it must be emphasized that this does not make a recipient of the NRP some sort of super-soldier. The nanides that make up the NRP work with what they're given--a subject in average to poor health would need to do some extra work to help their tiny companions out in order to experience even the smallest increase in performance. Change in dietary habits, increase in physical activity if and when possible, and of course if they’re injured they’ll need to follow any care steps as directed by a physician. That sort of thing. A person in peak or near-peak condition, however, will find themselves getting a marked benefit from the NRP. Not super-soldier level, but potentially to the level of a college-to-Olympic caliber athlete or an elite special-forces type agent like Subjects 1, 2, and 4--assuming that they engage in and maintain a level of training commensurate with such activities.”

Amanda sat for several minutes staring into the camera. Tears started to run down her face. “May my Ancestors and my husband forgive me,” she said as her voice broke. “For I may well have helped Aaron Keener kill my son.”


	8. Shell Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> City Hall has been attacked, and Amanda takes a big risk.

**Mid-September 2016** **  
** **Haven Settlement** **  
** **Manhattan Decontamination Zone**   
  
“Do what you need to take care of Keener...and then I want you out.” Paul Rhodes was not a happy man. The last person he ever wanted to see again, Acting Division Commander Faye Lau, was in  _ his _ house with two other Division agents that had come up from DC. The only thing keeping him from ordering the three of them out of Haven at gunpoint was the fact that the two from DC were there to hunt down Aaron Keener.

“All of you.” He glared at the new arrivals and walked off.

LJ took a deep breath.

“There’s a lot of history between us,” Lau said. “I’m going to go check on the survivors of the City Hall attack.” She walked off, and LJ watched her go.

“Well.” LJ took a deep breath. He looked at Kelso. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said.

“You sure that’s wise?” Kelso asked. “That was way more than history--that was some seriously bad blood there. But, if you think you can say something that’ll get Rhodes to change his mind, be my guest. There’s a space that’s been set up for us downstairs; I’ll be there if you need me.” Kelso and LJ patted each other on the shoulder, and LJ headed toward the public area. He found Rhodes pacing and fuming at what looked like a quartermastering area.

Rhodes saw the Division agent coming toward him, and his face darkened. “Unbelievable!” he sputtered after a couple of seconds. “We came here to get away from the Division, and all the blood and the violence that you bring.” He got into LJ’s face. “And Lau’s been flag-waving behind a Division badge for far too long. Every time we’ve allowed Agents to walk in here, we’ve always suffered afterwards. So  _ don’t _ make me regret allowing you into my home. I won’t forgive it.”

LJ nodded. “I wouldn’t blame you,” he said softly. “I didn’t come over here to appeal to your patriotism or give you some mealy-mouthed platitudes, in any event.”

“Then what are you doing in my space?” Rhodes snapped.

“Because you have a valid point,” LJ explained. “And I was hoping somebody here had been to the clinic down by Wa--”

Rhodes leaned in and put his right hand down on the table. “Do  _ not _ mention that place,” he hissed, “not while Lau is here. That clinic’s trained our medics and saved more than a few of my people, but Lau hates it and the people who run it, because they won’t help Division agents. Which makes them okay in my book--even if they do help the Rikers. Just...don’t mention them in front of her, because I don’t want to get an earful.”

“Got it.” LJ nodded. He glanced down and saw a small ceramic turtle on the table. He quickly pocketed the turtle. “We all lift together,” he remarked. “Whether certain people in the Division agree with it or not. If you need anything, let me know. And if anyone has a problem with it, they can come take it up with me.” He turned and headed toward the downstairs staging area, where Kelso was staring down at a map of Lower Manhattan. After looking around, he took the ceramic turtle out of his pocket and turned it over. A tiny RFID chip was wedged into the sculpture.

_ Scanning. _ An orange scanner pulse washed over the ceramic piece, and after a few minutes ISAC spoke again.

_ Encrypted message received. Decrypting. Recommend pursuing manhunt objectives. _

“Got it,” LJ said under his breath. He turned to Kelso. “So, who’s our first target?”

Kelso pursed her lips and looked at the map of Lower Manhattan. “The closest lead we have is a crashed drone over near the Civic Center. Go check it out and see if you can recover anything from the wreckage. Maybe you can rescue a turtle or two while you’re at it,” she jibed.

LJ chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Very funny. I’ll keep you posted on what I find,” he said as he made for the stairs. On the way up the stairs, he passed Lau on her way down.

“Agent Collier,” she said as she grabbed his arm. “I want you to go check out a crashed drone near the Civic Center. We think it may be a link to Parnell.”

LJ raised an eyebrow slightly. “I’m already on my way over there,” he said with a bit of a shrug. “I’ll let Kelso know what I find.” He felt his hackles raising as Lau pressed her lips together in a thin line and gave him a look of barely-repressed ire. “I know what to do and I know what’s at stake,  _ Agent _ Lau. You really don’t need to give me orders.” He ripped his arm from her grip and kept going up the stairs.

As he was walking past a couple of ex-JTF personnel, one of them said to him, “now you understand why we don’t want the Division here.”

LJ looked back toward the stairs and nodded. “I had an inkling before--but yeah. I definitely understand how you feel.” He took a deep breath and headed out toward the Civic Center and the old JTF/Division base of operations.

_ Message decrypted. _

“What does it say?”

A picture of a stuffed turtle like the one in the gift shop back in DC appeared on LJ’s hud. The turtle was at a bus stop out in front of a Kerman Coffee, tucked into a corner of the bench and braced by a paisley-patterned backpack. “Hmm.”

“Anything else?”

_ Negative. _

“Was it from Mom?”

_ Affirmative. _

LJ sighed and shrugged a bit. “‘Kay then.” He tapped his watch to bring up a map of Lower Manhattan in his HUD. “ISAC, go ahead and mark the location of that drone. Once we grab it I’ll go find that turtle.” A pip appeared on the map along with a trail leading to it.

_ Warning: path uses most recent map of New York City streets and may contain errors. _

“Got it. Thanks for the heads-up little brother.” He patted his watch and started off toward the drone. ISAC sent out occasional scan pulses along the way, remapping the streets as they went. LJ mounted a construction scaffold and carefully made his way to a rooftop where the drone had crashed. He examined the body of the drone. “Nice double-tap,” he mused, “right in the battery pack. Whoever took this down either knows drone anatomy or is one fuck of a lucky shot.” He turned the drone over and got out a small utility knife from a belt pouch, and flicked open its flathead screwdriver. After removing the drone’s flight arms, LJ used the screwdriver to pop the case open and extract the drone’s circuit board.

_ Transciever data cloned, _ ISAC whispered in LJ’s ear.

“Got the transciever from the drone,” LJ said on comms. “Is there a safe house in the area?”

“I had a couple of agents drop some intel and surveillance data at a nearby community animal shelter,” Kelso replied. “Just don’t spend too much time playing with the cats while you’re there okay?”

LJ laughed. “And make Admiral Halsey jealous? I would never do such a thing!”

“ _LJ…_ ”

“I won’t spend all my time with the cats, Kelso--I’ll just give ‘em treats.”

“Good.”

“...and some cuddles. Maybe a few skritches and loves too.” He heard an exasperated sigh from Kelso, and laughed again. “Just kidding--I’ll get that intel and follow up on it. I can always go back and play with the cats when we’re done.”

“Be careful,” Kelso admonished, “you’ll make the Admiral jealous.”

LJ chuckled as he rappelled down from the rooftop. He came out of the alley and looked to his right, and spotted a bus stop in front of a Kerman Coffee. “Hmm.” He raised an eyebrow and wandered over to the bus stop, where he found the stuffed turtle and paisley-patterned backpack from the picture message. LJ reached out and picked up the turtle, expecting to find a note stashed underneath. Instead, he saw that the turtle was attached to the backpack. “Oh, this is different.”

_ Scanning...no explosive residue or viral contamination found. _

“It’s safe, ISAC.” Amanda’s voice came over their private channel. “LJ, listen to me: do not trust  _ anyone _ in New York’s branch of the Division. We’ve caught some Black Tusk shitheads lurking around the edges of Lower Manhattan at certain times, and they’ve been really chummy with a couple of Orange-banded Agents. Are you cloning your trophies?”

_ Affirmative, _ ISAC responded.

“Good. The backpack has intel that you’ll need--treat it like it’s The One Ring, understand? Nod if you do.”

LJ nodded almost imperceptibly while pretending to play with the stuffed turtle.

“That’s my boys. Take the device in the backpack. Don’t forget to clone it, ISAC, and do not share it with anyone. Not even your father, not even Alani Kelso. Not until I say you can.”

LJ reached into the backpack and palmed a tiny USB device in the process of searching it for anything that may be useful.

“There are some antibiotics and other things in there that Haven can use. But the far more important thing is that device you found.” Amanda let out a heavy sigh and added, “ISAC...keyword Omniscience.”

“What’s going on?” LJ inventoried several large bottles of pills, packets of seeds, and an earpiece.

“Give the earpiece to Paul Rhodes," Amanda replied, deliberately avoiding the question. "He’ll know what to do with it.”

LJ resisted the urge to look around, and kept rummaging through the backpack. “Mom, where are you?” 

“Watching from not far away. I don’t know where Aaron is--he went to ground immediately after the attack on City Hall.”

“Will there be other drops?” LJ picked up the backpack and the stuffed turtle, and carried them into the settlement.

“Mhmm. I just saw you head into Haven, so I’m going to sign off. Love you, be careful.” The connection dropped. LJ walked over to the Quartermaster station and plopped the backpack down.

“Found this while I was out tracking down that drone,” he said. “Figured that a patrol had dropped it, given what I found inside when I went through it and its proximity to Haven. Meds, gardening supplies--seed packets mostly, but also some super-concentrated fertilizer--and a few other useful small things.”

Paul Rhodes reached over to take the backpack, and LJ slipped him the earpiece. “I’ll take that,” Haven’s leader said. “The Medics will have a field day with this stuff. Thanks, Agent.” 

“You can just call me LJ--everyone does.” LJ shrugged his left shoulder. “Even in the Navy I was never really big on formality. Anyone who doesn’t like me being informal can take a hike.”

“Don’t you have some Rogues to hunt down?” Rhodes shot LJ a look, and the agent let out a snort in response.

“I sure do. I’ll be back later.” LJ shook his head and headed back out of the settlement to the community at Civic Center.

  
  


Amanda watched a Riker patrol divert down a side street as her son approached their position, and sighed with relief. “ISAC,” she whispered, “do me a favour--hunt down and forward me the autopsy records for Senator Henry Parnell. The unredacted ones, specifically.” 

_ Commencing search. _

She stood and made her way down the fire escape of the building she’d been camped on, after checking to make sure that nobody with an orange watch could see her vantage point. “I feel like goddamn Batman, doing this.” She pulled up her blue-trimmed black hood as a light rain started to fall. “Didn't Q-Section try coming up with portable grapnel-launchers that agents could use, ISAC?”

_ Experiments terminated due to-- _

“They couldn’t come up with a way to get around the laws of Physics and their effects on the human spine and shoulder, could they?”

_ Affirmative. _

“Heh. And that’s why we have those cute little rappelling motors,” Amanda quipped as she hopped off the last fire escape and rolled off the hood of a delivery truck to land on her feet. She smelled a hint of sagebrush over the top of the mingled aromas of death and decay coming from the streets, and looked toward what seemed to be the best possible natural blind. “Javier, that you?”

A slight figure in black stepped out of the dusk shadows. A smear of eyeblack on each cheekbone obscured his facial features a bit along with his neatly-trimmed beard, and his cowl gave him the appearance of a specter. “My answer to your offer is still no,” Javier Kajika growled. “I’m not the kind of person you need for your Initiative. City Hall should have driven the point home for you.”

“I understand.” Amanda nodded. “And I’ll tell you the same thing I told Aaron: Justice and accountability don’t always require bloodshed.”

“What did he say to that?” Kajika replied.

“He laughed,” Amanda said. She saw Kajika nod a bit, and asked “Are you nodding because you agree with me, or because you think Aaron was right to laugh at that idea?”

Kajika stared down at the street for a minute before putting a hand on Amanda’s shoulder and giving her a rueful smile from under his cowl. “I agree with you,” he said in his slightly gravelly voice, “but I’ve spent my life bringing bloody justice to enemies of America. It’s hard-wired at this point, and far too late for me to change.” He patted Amanda’s shoulder and turned to leave. “I wish you well Amanda Collier,” he said as he walked off into the encroaching darkness. “I think I like your form of justice better anyway.”

_ Records retrieved, _ ISAC whispered in Amanda’s ear as she watched Kajika melt into the shadows.

“Thanks, son.” Amanda started making her way back to the Tower. “Let's go uncover a truth,” she whispered as she walked. “I just hope that the kid who needs it will be able to accept it.” 


	9. Wayward Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo Parnell receives a painful truth from LJ, and needs to decide how to handle it. The Case Blue Initiative has gone all in after City Hall. A surprise attack leaves LJ fighting for his life. And ISAC drops a bombshell.

**The Tombs** **  
  
**

“You don’t deserve this kind of power,” Rhodes quipped as he started hacking the server. “You really don’t.”

“You do realize,” LJ jibed with a laugh as he fired a few rounds off in the semi-general direction of a Riker wearing a blue bandana. “That’s my brother you’re talking about there right?” 

The Riker checked to make sure that the agent had gotten into cover before lazily firing back at a monitor five feet from LJ’s position.

Rhodes snorted. “Yeah yeah--still doesn’t change what I said.”

“Noted!”

The pantomime continued for several minutes until the Rikers cleared out of the room, leaving LJ alone with a bank of monitors and a server that turned out to be empty except for a taunt from their object of LJ’s current hunt.

Outside the courtroom, LJ spotted a sticker of Testudo that had been slapped onto the Great Seal of the state of New York by the door. The sticker of the University of Maryland's mascot covered a small slip of paper with a QR code on it. ISAC scanned the code, and a data stream started to roll up the right side of LJ’s HUD. He tapped his watch to switch to the private channel he and ISAC shared.

“Autopsy report,” he started reading. “Henry Parnell… Holy shit, you and Mom found it?”

_ Affirmative. _

“Can you abstract it for me?”

_ Analysis of medical records indicate previous incidents of tachycardia connected to prolonged consumption of caffeine in excess of 1400mg per day. _

“That’s...a little over two pots of coffee a day, if my math is right. Damn, how was he not bouncing off the damn walls?”

_ Affirmative. Patient had been counseled by physicians to cut down on caffeine intake after most recent incident, six months before patient’s death. Evidence of patient’s caffeine consumption indicated in attached news photos showing patient with 340mg (12-ounce) or larger cup of coffee in hand at various time-points, indicative of large-scale consumption throughout an average workday. Autopsy discovered plaques in several smaller arteries and veins leading to the heart, and medical records over the ten years antemortem indicated an elevated level of HDL cholesterol that patient had been attempting to control through changes to diet and exercise. Toxicology screenings of patient’s blood showed no evidence of foreign substances. _

_ Conclusion: Patient’s heart attack was tragic, but merely coincidental. _

LJ sighed. “Well.” He hefted his shotgun and tore off a tiny corner of the paper. He placed it on his tongue, and it dissolved. “Oh good, another sugar sheet.” He looked down at the QR code on the paper, then took out a small metal mint tin. He put the paper in the tin and closed the lid, then slipped it into a utility pocket on his vest. “Time to go roll the dice.”

The Rikers pulled back as LJ walked out into the Courthouse lobby, firing shots that went wide of their mark. LJ ducked behind a pillar and counted to thirty, then swung out with his shotgun levelled. 

_ Hostile radio intercepted. _

“Keener,” Theo Parnell panted, “It’s me. I need an immediate extraction--can you send a helo to my location?”

“Sorry Theo, I can’t do that.” LJ felt his hackles raise as Keener smugly dismissed his most loyal lieutenant. “I can’t keep cleaning up your mess.”

“Wait wait wait--this guy designed a whole fucking network for Keener, and Keener dumps him like a bad blind date?” LJ shook his head as he trotted out of the Courthouse. “Hell’s bells Mom,” he muttered, “what the fuck did you ever see in him?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Theo sputtered. “Keener? Answer me! Keener!”

“You’ve got him cornered,” Lau radioed, “Time to move in for the kill!”

_ Ignore her, _ ISAC counseled.  _ Give him the truth, let him decide his fate. _

LJ smiled a bit. “My sentiments exactly,” he whispered. “I’m proud of your progress, by the way.”

_ Acknowl...thank you. _

“So...are you more comfortable talking in complete-ish sentences now?” LJ dug through a crate marked JTF and fished out a couple of spare mags for his SMG plus a box of shells for his shotgun. He took off his backpack for a moment to stow the shells in the armoured pockets on the side of the backpack, and slipped the magazines into his cargo pants.

_ Not with everyone. _ Images of Amanda and LJ appeared on LJ’s HUD.

“Just with me and Mom?” LJ stood and put his pack on and secured it, then checked the ammo in his SASG-12K.

_ For now. _

LJ nodded. “Time to put on a show, I guess. Can you prep the jammer for me? I have a feeling we’ll have a Fistful of Theos waiting for us, and I’ll only get one shot to throw the truth out there.”

_ Done. _

“Showtime.” LJ took a deep breath and stepped into the courtyard, walking directly to the center.

_ Rogue agent nearby. Error: Multiple signatures detected. _ ISAC slipped back into his role as the “unfeeling” AI who didn’t use all of his words. LJ tapped and held the face of his watch, and ISAC activated an electromagnetic pulse that disabled all of the decoy holograms and left a very surprised Theo Parnell in one of the guard posts surrounding the yard. ISAC put a pip on his perch, and LJ turned with one hand up while fishing the tin out of his vest pocket. He held it up for Parnell to see, then walked over to toss it up into the guard post. He walked back to the center of the courtyard and stood there with his SMG in the “safe ready” position, pointing down at the ground but still ready to use immediately if the need arose.

  
  
  


**Theo**

Theo trained his rifle on the tin as it arced up toward him like an oblong metal frisbee. He watched it land, and the lid popped open to reveal a slip of paper with a QR code on it. “What the fuck?” He picked up the tin, and heard ISAC’s voice in his ear.

_ Scanning QR code. _

A blue outline appeared around everything for a moment, and another voice whispered to him through his earpiece.

“ISAC, can you give PO2 Parnell a video link please?” An image of Dr. Amanda Collier appeared on his HUD. “Thanks hon.” Amanda smiled. “Hi Theo. I’ve been watching everything through my son’s HUD.” She smiled. “I won’t hold your comments about ISAC against you--my baby’s still learning a few things.”

Theo narrowed his eyes a bit. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No, Theo. Not a joke.” Amanda took a deep breath. “I found the autopsy report on your dad, and I found and pulled his medical records as well.”

“How?!” Theo’s jaw dropped. “I mean, I know you created ISAC and all, but how did you get access to all that when I couldn’t?”

“I planned ahead--what LJ couldn’t tell you on an open channel is that he believes your comments about the Division...and so do I. I may have grown up around government and government service, but that doesn’t mean I blindly trust everything that comes from government channels.”

Theo started reading Amanda’s abstract. “Wait, so…”

“100% natural causes. The timing was tragically coincidental--but no foul play.” Amanda paused for a moment. “I’ve seen cases like your Dad’s before, which is why I pulled his medical records for the ten years before his death. I wanted to be absolutely certain of my findings.”

Theo fell silent as he started reading the detailed report. “I…” He started to reach for his sidearm as LJ slipped into the sniper perch and put a finger to his lips.

“Theo,” Amanda said, “LJ should be right there by you. He’s not going to hurt you--but he needs your watch. Go ahead and give it to him. Please.”

A tear ran down Parnell’s face, and he quickly wiped it away before ripping off his watch and handing it to LJ.

_ Rogue agent...deceased. _

LJ reached out and patted Theo on the shoulder. He smiled and nodded, then left the blind as silently as he had entered.

“What do I do now?” Theo whispered.

“I won’t ask you to turn yourself in,” Amanda replied softly. “But I can offer you a chance to do good for others. Say the word, and I’ll have a couple of Case Blue operatives come to help you get out of the city.”

“I…” Theo stared down at the platform. “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough. But keep in mind that the city isn’t safe for you now--if Aaron finds out that you’re not really dead…”

Theo nodded. “I know...I’ll be in touch.”

“We all lift together, Sailor.” Amanda smiled and closed the link.

  
  


**LJ**

“He’s down,” LJ radioed to Haven. “Poor fucker.”

“Don’t feel sorry for these people,” Lau shot back. “They chose to abandon their mission, to abandon  _ us _ . They don’t deserve sympathy, they deserve a bullet to the head.”

LJ clenched his jaw and silently counted to fifty, “I feel sad for anyone who’s been manipulated by Aaron fucking Keener,” he retorted.

“Will you still have that level of sympathy when the Rikers turn on your moth--”

“Lau,” Rhodes cut in, “I have tolerated a lot of bullshit from you over the last few months--but that? That was  _ way _ out of fuckin’ line. Now you can dial it the fuck back, or you can get out of my house and go right back to fuckin’ Midtown! Am I clear?” After several seconds without a response, Rhodes repeated, “Am. I. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Lau replied frostily. “Agent, come back to Haven. We need that watch.”

LJ opened his mouth to speak when he heard a single gunshot from the courtyard. He let out a heavy sigh, and keyed his comms. “On my way,” he replied. “Collier out.” He closed his comms. After a few seconds, he whispered, “I hope the truth brought you peace, Theo Parnell.”

  
  
  


**Haven Settlement** **  
** **Two hours later**

Paul Rhodes stopped LJ as he was walking into the settlement. “Listen, kid...LJ. I’ve heard some over the top shit from Lau, but what she said about your mom...I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Thanks,” LJ replied. “She hasn’t exactly been making a good impression on me.” He shrugged a bit, then looked around before adding, “I’m sticking with talking to Kelso at any rate. At least I know I can trust her.”

Rhodes patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit,” he said. LJ headed downstairs and put Parnell’s watch on the table in front of Kelso, who reached for it only to have Lau immediately snatch it from the table.

“Thanks, Agent. I can use this to track the other members of Keener’s network.” She smirked. “Hopefully it’ll lead us right to the bastard.” She turned to put the watch on a table and leaned over it.

Kelso and LJ looked at each other. Kelso pursed her lips and looked at Lau, then shrugged a bit. “Listen, LJ--Rhodes thinks he’s got a line on the server where Parnell transferred his data before wiping it at the Tombs.”

“Yeah,” Rhodes said as he came down the stairs. “One Police Plaza has a ton of computers and a satellite dish that we can patch ISAC into. Once we do that, we can crack Parnell’s little server and get the data off of it.” He gave LJ a gentle prod in the ribs. “You, young man, should probably get to it immediately if not sooner.”

“I’ll head down there right now,” LJ replied. He looked back at Kelso and added, “I’ll keep  _ you _ posted.” He shot a peeved look at Lau before heading back up the stairs with Haven’s patriarch. At the top of the stairs, he indicated his ear and asked “Were you able to make use of the items in that bag?”

Rhodes nodded. “Some interesting stuff,” he remarked before taking LJ aside. “Look, I’m not cut out for all that spy shit. All those code words and dead drops and whatever. Just give it to me straight and tell me if there’s something you want to let me in on.”

LJ fished out a meal bar and tore open the wrapper. He took a bite and started chewing it slowly as he watched Lau come up the steps and stride out of the settlement. He swallowed and rewrapped the remainder, then tucked it in his shirt pocket. “Let’s just say that you, my mom, and I all share a certain point of view about accountability, responsibility, and unchecked power.” He patted Rhodes on the shoulder and said, “I’ll head over to Police Plaza and get the power on so we can crack a server together.”

Of all the crazy things that happened to Johnathan Collier-Ellis had seen in his time as a Division agent, a pack of  _ Rikers _ coming to his rescue had to rank up there with the time he happened upon a four-way brawl between tanks from each of DC’s four major factions in front of the White House that ended with all four combatants exhausted and sharing beers before going their separate ways.

“I’m gonna make you bleed!” A Cleaner rusher blindsided LJ as he was firing on two grenade-throwers that had tried to get the drop on him. The Cleaner rammed LJ with his shield to stagger him before following up with a vicious upward slash with his razor-sharp hatchet. The bit of the hatchet sank deep into LJ’s left forearm and almost made him drop his Vector. LJ dropped the Cleaner with a leg-sweep and dispatched him with three short bursts of rapid fire, but not before the rusher managed to deliver another blow that bit deep into his right thigh.

_ Immediate medical assistance needed. _ LJ felt his head start to swim as ISAC quickly recalibrated the mini-probes on his brother’s hive to function as part of a medical kit that pumped a combination of clotting factors and painkillers into him.  _ Neural Repair Protocol compensating. Agglutination control active. _ The AI marked a nearby rooftop and the path to it courtesy of the fire escape on the side of the building. LJ fired another burst from his SMG to drive the grenadiers into cover, and high-tailed it to the closed dumpster underneath the fire escape. He levered himself up onto the dumpster cover and gingerly clambered up the rickety ladder onto the fire escape. He got himself onto the lowest level just as the ladder finally gave way to years of rust and a lack of maintenance, leaving him stranded for the moment.

“Fuck me…” LJ reached for a dressing he had in one of his utility pouches when ISAC interrupted him.

_ Multiple hostiles in immediate proximity. GET YOUR ASS TO THE ROOF. _ The AI didn’t want to raise his volume and risk damaging LJ’s hearing--so instead he lowered the timbre and pitch of his voice.

To LJ, the exhortation was like the voice of a god. He clambered to his feet and made his way up the fire escape. The combination of blood loss and the heavy painkillers made him dizzy, and ISAC kept feeding him status reports on his condition.

_ Neural Repair Protocol functioning at 75%. Attempting to compensate for surge in adrenalin and cortisol. Administering mild antihistamine to facilitate ease of breathing. Agglutination control at critical levels. Heart rate increasing to 155 bpm. Neural Repair Protocol functioning at 70%. One more meter, brother. _

LJ staggered onto the roof of the building and slumped down against an HVAC unit, leaving a trail of blood as he sank to the rooftop.

“What the fuck?” A beefy light-skinned man in an orange jumpsuit turned and looked at the Division Agent that had just appeared on the rooftop covered in blood and panting. “Hey guys, we got a visitor up here.” A small group of people wearing bright orange came over, along with a pair of leather-clad women carrying akimbo SMGs. It took a few moments for LJ to register that the big guy had a couple of compressed air tanks strapped to his back, attached to a nail gun.

LJ sighed and just stared up at the group. “Well, shit…” He started to laugh, now fully delirious from blood loss and the meds that ISAC had pumped him with while trying to get him healed. “Fuck me,” he said, his voice thick and sluggish, “I survive getting an artillery strike dropped on me in Afghanistan, beat the fuck out of an entire clan of Hyenas with help from my dad...and I’m gonna die alone on a rooftop because I didn’t watch my sides.” He shook his head slowly. “Do me a favour,” he slurred, “take me to my mom’s clinic after you cack me k? Tell’er I’m sorry.”

For the first time in his existence, ISAC felt what he could only classify as fear. He ran through his options, watched his brother’s blood volume and blood pressure slowly drop thanks to two deep gashes that refused to fully clot, and performed his first desperate act.

LJ’s watch and brick rings turned a brilliant cerulean blue. LJ saw the blue glow and reflexively rasped “We all lift together.”

“Whoa!” The big guy took a step back and trained his nail gun on LJ. “What just happened?”

One of the SMG-packing Rikers set her twin Uzis down. “He’s one of the Doc’s people,” she said. “That’s what the blue means--and the Division don’t like ‘em, so that means they’re okay by me. Ron, help me roll him over. I gotta get that hive off him.” The large Riker tank got down on one knee and grabbed LJ’s right shoulder. LJ winced and gasped, and he felt his hive being unhooked from his belt. “K, now I gotta set it down next to him. One of the Blue Man people told me it works better if it’s next to him instead of still being on a belt or backpack.” The hive lit up with fresh charges, and the tiny green “bee” probes sank themselves into LJ’s skin to deliver a fresh cocktail of medications.

“Mmm, thanks.” LJ yawned, and shivered a bit. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Shock’s a bitch.” The sound of another person coming up the busted fire escape made everyone reach for their guns, and one of them looked over the side.

“Blue Man,” the lookout told his compatriots. “Yo, he’s up here!” 

LJ heard the callout and was certain he was about to die in the next five minutes. Seven blue stars floated in his vision, and he let out a sigh. “Pleiades,” he whispered. ”Alcyone...Atlas...” He felt hands lifting him to slide a board underneath, and in the haze of medication he felt himself floating. “Electra...Maia…”

“He’s lost a crapton of blood,” he heard a calm voice say. “Let’s get him inside--hopefully one of the apartments in this building is actually empty.”

“Merope...Taygeta…”

“Is he supposed to be talking?”

“Talking means that he’s still breathing, so that’s a good thing.”

“Pleione…” LJ smiled up at one of the blue stars. “Binary star, but who’s counting right?” He felt a gentle poke in his arm and a gentle surge of warmth accompanied by more voices.

“That coat rack you’ve got there is perfect. Here, hang this on it. Thanks.”

“You need some of us to clear the room?”

“No, it’s perfect--we want to keep him warm, and with the HVAC unit on the roof busted that means that a bunch of people in a small apartment is what we need to heat the room.”

_ Blood pressure stabilizing. Neural Repair Protocol function at 85% and rising. Finally got the bleeding stopped. _

LJ tried to sit up, and the room started tilting. “M’brother...need muh brother…” Several hands gently pushed him back down.

“Your brother’s right here with you, Turtle. You don’t need to get up.” The voices talking to him were quiet. Somebody brushed his hair away from his forehead, and a sleepy smile crossed his face.

“Celaeno...not spelled like it sounds...and Sterope.”

“Man, he is flying so high right now. Bet that crash is gonna be hell.”

“He’ll be okay--all the medications helped keep him calm long enough for us to get here, and as long as we taper off the dosage he should be okay.”

LJ heard the door open, and silence for several long seconds.

“Grimm? What the fuck?”

“Whoa Kelso, it’s cool--they’re friendly...ish. Put the gun away.”

LJ fought to keep his eyes open when he heard the familiar voice. “Kelso? Where y’at? Whurr Manny?”

“Holy shit,” LJ heard Kelso say as he tried to focus. “What the hell happened to him?”

“A Cleaner with a hatchet got the drop on him. I smelled the gasoline as I was prepping him for a unit of blood. He’d have been fine if that Cleaner hadn’t gotten lucky and nicked his Radial and Femoral arteries just enough to cause major hemorrhaging.”

“Mom?” LJ couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer as ISAC slipped him some sedatives. He was out and snoring lightly within seconds.

  
  


**Kelso**

Kelso heard the snores and relaxed a bit. “OK, so wait--you’re all Rikers.” She indicated the group of people in orange and leathers. The four other people were kitted out like Division agents, save for the bright blue rings on their watches and bricks. One of them, a stocky woman with auburn hair and two full sleeves of tattoos peeking out from under her black shirt, was tending to LJ as he lay sleeping on a riot shield.

“Yeah,” the big Riker said as he flexed a bit. His biceps strained at the fabric of his jumpsuit. “You gotta problem with that?”

The leader of the Case Blue squad, a reedy tattooed white man with a shock of champagne blonde hair and liquid brown eyes, gave him an expression that had  _ gimme a break _ written all over it. “Ron, you don’t need to flex on everyone my dude.” He patted the beefy Riker on the shoulder and moved to stand against the wall. “There. I don’t like leaving people out of a conversation. I’m Steve by the way.” He extended a hand, and Kelso shook it firmly. 

“Kelso. Nice shield,” she said, indicating the target shield tattoo peeking out from under his right shirt-sleeve.

“Heh, what can I say--I love comics. My squaddies here are Amos, you already Grimm, and the goth-looking fella over there is Zeke.” The Case Blue squad and Kelso all shook hands. “We happened to be in the area to mark some good waste-incineration sites when we got the call that somebody needed help,” Steve explained. “Mandy didn’t tell us who it was, but when we saw Turtle we got word to a Peacekeeper patrol and they radioed it in.” 

“Yeah,” Kelso said, “I hauled ass over here as soon as Rhodes told me.” She looked at the Rikers and asked, “how’d you find him?”

A dark-skinned woman jerked a thumb toward the roof. “We’re building a few greenhouses up here--good sun on the rooftops in this area, so we’re gonna try growing us some food over the winter. Poor guy came crawling up the fire escape and flopped his ass down next to a busted AC unit.” She nodded toward one of the leather-clad shock troops. “Roxy here just took his beehive off him and set it down.”

“You saved his life,” Grimm said as she brushed a lock of auburn hair back from her face. “That was good thinking.” She tapped her watch to collate some data with ISAC. “His pulse is good, heart rate is stabilized. I was able to get him sutured up, but as you can see he’ll need a new pair of cargo pants.” She looked to the others. “If you all want to head out, go for it. Kelso and I can stay here with Turtle.” She looked to the Rikers. “And thank you again.”

Steve nodded and looked over to Ron. “You cool with that, Ron?” He asked, extending a hand. 

Ron thought about it for a moment, then shook Steve’s hand. “I’m cool.” He signalled to his companions. “C’mon y’all, it’s getting late. Dragov’s probably wondering where we all got to.” He indicated Kelso and said, “Long as you with a Blue Man, we’ll back off. But be careful and don’t stay too long, cos some of us got itchy fingers.”

Kelso nodded slowly. “Got it.”

Steve’s watch dinged, and he looked down at it. “Homer and Marge are headed up this way with another unit of O-Negative for you Grimmy. If I run into them on the way out of the building I’ll holler with a heads-up so you can let them in.”

“Thanks.” Grimm sat down on the floor and pulled her knees up. “Looks like it’s just us and Turtle.”

“And ISAC,” Kelso replied.

“And ISAC.” Grimm smiled. “ISAC and I had a long chat when I joined Case Blue. He’d been ordered to declare me Rogue for breaking into an abandoned National Guard armory to help arm a settlement, and I was still kinda upset about it.” She looked over at Kelso, who was also sitting on the floor. “Can you fucking believe that?”

_ Ridiculous order, _ ISAC quipped. Grimm laughed.

“Mandy agreed that the order was ridiculous--and I still believe in our mission, Kelso. But the Division itself as an agency, as a force for good? Not so much. You’re seriously lucky that you have somebody in DC who trusts your judgment and knows that you won’t do anything to harm the people we’re trying to protect. But a lot of places where Agents went rogue don’t have that, and whatever “leadership” is left in the agency has gone all in with the Black Tusk, with the exception of Bismarck and Tulsa.” 

Kelso pursed her lips. “The HQs that the Tribes are working with,” she observed. 

“Yeah. Of course, whether it’s out of shared goals or enlightened self-interest remains to be seen. Dallas is a lost cause, though--the Commander in that HQ is buddy buddy with Kenton Richards, who is a major supporter of Black Tusk. The second El Presidente was safely in the arms of those tools, he wasted no time changing the sign on the front door.” Grimm cracked her knuckles. “I swear, if I ever run into Ellis I’m g--”

“Grimm,” Amanda Collier softly admonished over the comms, “please don’t cockpunch my husband.” She chuckled and continued, “How’s our boy?”

“Recovering. He’s asleep right now. ISAC sending you telemetry?”

“He is. LJ should be good to head out in the morning, but he'll be at less than full steam for a few days. ISAC, can you 50-50 Agent Kelso please?” A small video inlay appeared in Kelso’s HUD. “Thank you son. Pleasure to virtually meet you, Agent.”

“Mother.” Kelso pursed her lips a bit. She wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Amanda Collier yet.

Amanda smiled. “You can call me Mandy, it’s fine. I don’t really stand on formality that much. I’m going to get off the channel, but I wanted to check in on LJ and at least give you a face to put with the name and the stories. We’ll talk more when this manhunt is all over.” The image vanished, and Kelso looked at Grimm.

“She’s...let me put it this way. Keener seems to think he’s got some kind of contest going with Mandy--who has the better idea. Mandy, on the other hand, asked a bunch of us to come here to the City to help try to...mitigate, I guess.” Grimm’s expression darkened. “After you all cleared out to Haven, we moved in to get some idea of what we’re having to guard against.” 

“And?” Kelso sat back against the wall and stretched her legs out.

Grimm snorted. “You know your history, so I won’t have to explain this: attacking City Hall was the equivalent of invading Russia in the middle of winter.” She grimaced. “There were kids there when that bomb went off, Alani.  _ Babies. _ Mandy got Keener on the horn and lit his ass the fuck up as soon as she got back to the tower--Gods, I’d never seen her so furious. And all that shithead could think of to say was that they were unfortunate collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?!” Kelso got a surprised expression on her face for an instant, then gritted her teeth. “I…” She balled up her fists. “Back in DC, there was a settlement called Castle--they were set up on the Manning Institute campus. After the True Sons shelled them with DC-62 munitions, there was this little girl among the survivors. She’d lost her parents in the attack, and I was furious that Ridgeway and his goons didn’t even fucking care about people--all they cared about was…” Kelso shut her eyes tightly for a moment. “I told LJ to kill them all. That’s how I feel about City Hall right now.”

“I get it, believe me. So does Mandy.” Grimm looked at her watch in response to a ping. “ISAC says we should be good to get LJ back to Haven as soon as he wakes up. Homer and Marge won’t need to bring us that unit of blood after all--but the kiddo will need fluids so I’d better get on that.” She opened her pack and got out a unit of saline solution, then stood to swap out the spent bag of blood. “Knowing our Turtle, he’ll be wanting to get right back to whatever he was doing before that Cleaner damn near took him out.” Grimm leaned against the couch. “It’s good to see you again, Alani. Feels like forever since we were in training together.”

“Will you ever come back to the Division?” Kelso asked.

Grimm chuckled. “I never left it--the Division, however, left me and the rest of us who signed on with Case Blue. Sorry, ISAC.”

_ No offense taken. _

Grimm chuckled again as she checked the connection and opened the valve to let the saline enter the IV line . “Truthfully though, the Case Blue Initiative--or, if you’re like some of the Wall Street Rikers, Blue Man Group--is closer to what the Division needed to be: A shield, taking fire so that the “regular” folks can focus on the task of rebuilding their lives after a world-ender like the Green Poison. Sure, it’s great to be able to go after the “mask off” bad guys without having to worry about Miranda warnings and paperwork, but like they say in the Spiderman comics, “with great power comes great responsibility.” And our responsibility is to the people--even folks like the Rikers, who are still living in that “this is what we’ve decided that you are and we won’t allow you to change” box that the Old World stuffed them in.” 

  
  


“Are there psychotic assclowns among them who treat it as a thrill kill cult?” Grimm asked. She sat back down. “Sure there are. But they always get weeded out, because they always cause more problems than they solve.” She straightened her legs out and folded herself in half to stretch out her back. “Oooh yeah. So the Rikers of Wall Street--let’s focus on them right now. They’re starting to do things to build themselves into an actual community. Like the rooftop greenhouses. There’s also a small community based out of a nearby church that’s got a sort of partnership thing going with them. The pastor and several of the community members are outdoorsy types, so they’ve been teaching hunting and fishing skills to a few of the Wall Street folks. A couple of the students that Mandy and I have at the Tower are from Wall Street, too.”

“You’re teaching?”

Grimm nodded and smiled. “Yep--I was a trauma surgeon pre-outbreak, remember? Figured it wouldn’t hurt to pass on my skills.” She spread her legs a bit and slowly bent toward her right foot. “So back to the Rikers. One of the things that we need to ask ourselves when dealing with them is if justice should be retributive like it was in the Old World, or if it should be  _ reparative _ .” Grimm finished her stretching routine by bending toward her left foot. “Personally, I vote for reparative. Always have, if I’m honest. The Old World is gone now, and the system that told guys like Ron that they were innately bad people who were barely human and therefore only fit to be treated like animals and denied actual equality and justice? That’s gone too.”

Grimm finished her stretches and sat up. “We need to save as many human beings as we can if we want to survive as a species, Alani--and that means rethinking the concept of what justice is and should be in this country, because justice and accountability don’t always require bloodshed.”

“Javier Kajika wouldn’t agree with you,” Kelso said softly.

“Oh, I know. He and Mandy have had a chat about it. He wished us well, even admires us for the work we’re doing.” Grimm sighed. “But he’s far too set in his ways to change.” She looked at LJ and sighed again. “When Turtle finds him, it’s going to get ugly.”

Kelso nodded. “So back to Keener.”

“Oh, right. After City Hall he’s fighting a war on two fronts. Three, if Black Tusk decides to come rolling in from Midtown.” Grimm cracked her knuckles again. “What I’m trying to say is that after City Hall, we’re all in.”

“Good.”

  
  


**ISAC**

As the first rays of dawn sketched the skies over Manhattan, ISAC tracked a lone figure making their way toward the Williamsburg Bridge. He accessed a surveillance camera on FDR drive, and zoomed in to see a small group of people in black standing on the bridge, just out of sight behind a wrecked box truck. The AI zeroed in on the leader of the group, a man of average height wearing tac glasses. His hair was swept back from his triangular face, and he had a smug look.

The person he’d been tracking approached the bridge and handed a small item to the man, who turned it over in his hands.

“A turtle, huh?” The man snorted. “Well it’s original, I’ll give ‘em that. You sure this is what this new group of rogue agents are using to coordinate with the Division?”

“I’d bet on it,” his contact said. ISAC zoomed in to get more detail, and even though his target was deliberately keeping their back turned to all cameras and using something to mask their voice and facial features from his audio pickups, the AI was able to make out the distinctive black strap of an eyepatch across the back of their head.

“Well,” the man said, “Guess we need to use that against them. You said they have a base of operations?”

“One of the skyscrapers near Wall Street. They run a clinic for the Rikers and anyone else who needs help--except the Division. They’ve got some sort of “truce” with Keener. One of the stipulations is that they can’t help Division agents.”

“Well they’re doing one thing right at least...no offense.”

“None taken.”

“Well, this is some damn good intel. The Chief won’t like what we’re going to do with it," he said with a faint Appalachian drawl, "but we don’t have to let him know now do we?”

“You’ll be there when it’s time to take Keener down?”

“Well the Division sure won't, that's for fuckin' sure.”

ISAC watched the group head back across the bridge. He attached a recording of the exchange to a search query that he had run a couple of months ago, and sent it to the one person who he judged needed it most.

_ Mother. _


	10. Honour and Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To do the work of a revolution, sometimes you have to pick up a wrench.

**Columbia Medical Tower -- War Room** **  
****Lower Manhattan**

  
  


“This is verified?” Grimm put her hands on top of her head and looked up at the ceiling as she leaned back in her chair.

Amanda nodded. “It sure is. Not that it’s a surprise or anything of course, but it means that we’ll have to come up with another dead-drop system for our boy. Not only that, but we have to let him know that there’s officially a target on his back now--and we have to figure out how to do it without tipping off the mole.”

Grimm sat up and gave Amanda an incredulous look. “Wait, seriously? Black Tusk is that fucking stupid?” 

“They’re that fucking calculating,” Amanda replied. “If they take out LJ and pin it on the Division--or worse, on us? Andrew will officially go to war, and that’s not going to be good for anyone. Not even me.” She scratched her forehead. “Of course…”

“You’ve got something up your sleeve,” Grimm remarked with a grin. Amanda tapped her watch. Grimm’s watch dinged, and she tapped it to bring up what Amanda sent her. “What’s this?”

“An unredacted report about a friendly fire incident in Kandahar back in ‘08,” Amanda said. “take a look and tell me whose name sticks out like the proverbial sore thumb.”

Grimm whistled. “Holy shit--has anyone else seen this?”

“Nope. The reports that Andrew and Dad got had names redacted, so they have no idea who called in that artillery strike.” Amanda cracked her knuckles. “That little shithead thinks he’s going to go after _my_ kid as a way to make sure that _my_ husband does what _his_ bosses want? He’s got another thing fucking coming.” She took a deep breath. “ISAC, can you get a message to your brother?”

_Affirmative._

“Tell him that the shell game’s been broken up. Any further dead drops are not to be trusted unless advised otherwise by me directly.”

_Affirmative._

Amanda let out a heavy sigh. “Have we gotten an update from Spotter, ISAC?”

_Affirmative. Clock updated as of 1 hour ago. Collating received data for distribution to Tulsa, Pine Ridge, and DC. New York removed from distribution list._

“Thanks.” She stretched and yawned a bit. “You know Shannon,” Amanda said, “I remember when I told Dad I wanted to be a doctor and not a sailor or soldier. He cried--not because he was sad, but because it meant that I wouldn’t have to kill anyone.”

Grimm nodded. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“Not yet.” Amanda scratched her forehead. “There wasn’t time to tell him when everything started happening, and now...well. He’s got enough to worry about with keeping the Fleets together. He knows about Black Tusk, and he knows about Andrew going Full Potatohead--he was _not_ happy about that one--”

“I can imagine!” Grimm rubbed her chin for a moment. “Let’s derail the conversation for a bit: how much do you trust Alani Kelso?”

Amanda smiled. “LJ and ISAC both speak highly of her, and I know that LJ trusts her with his life. Why?”

Grimm leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her. “I think we should include her in what we’re doing.”

“I agree--the only problem is that one, we’re on a mole hunt. And two, we still have a truce with Aaron...at least “on paper”. So any contact we have with her will have to be extremely circumspect for now.” Amanda lightly rubbed her eyes. “Fuck, listen to me--I’ve become just like my uncle Dan, my Aunt Sophie’s brother-in-law. He was a CIA agent during the Cold War. He even tried to recruit me because of my ability to sneak around and find shit, if you can believe that.” She laughed a bit. “And now he’s the Chief of Intelligence for the Seven Council Fires--of course, they don’t call it that; he’s officially just an advisor to the Tribal Council. But that’s basically what he does. Still training spies and teaching them counterespionage.”

Grimm laughed. “So that’s where you learned your tradecraft from!” She saw Amanda nod, and laughed some more. “You sure have a colourful family!”

“That I do,” Amanda replied. “Part luck, mostly twice the work that any fully White family would have to put in.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I and LJ are the luck part of it--my parents made the decision to raise me White, because they didn’t want me to go through the hell that Dad went through growing up.” She stood and walked over to the large refrigerator in one corner of the room. “Aunt Sophie understood,” she said as she opened the door and got a couple of large bottles of water out, “but she didn’t want me completely insulated from the Chahta side of the family.”

“That why you had those summer clinics in Oklahoma?”

Amanda nodded. She closed the door with her foot and came back to the table, setting a bottle in front of Grimm and keeping one for herself. “That’s part of it,” she explained. “I spent summers there as a kid anyway--my cousins and I would trade off. I’d spend my summer with Aunt Sophie and Uncle Leonard and all the family out there, and Danny and Lulu would spend summer with Mom and Dad in Maryland. And the last four weeks we’d all have together on Pine Ridge with Uncle Leonard’s folks.” She smiled a bit. 

“It reinforced that even though we had two separate worlds, we were still family and still support each other.” Amanda cracked the seal on her bottle and opened it to take a deep drink. “The things I saw on the reservations,” she said as she set the bottle on the table, ”were what reinforced my decision to go into medicine. I saw so many people suffering because White America had just relegated people to these barren tracts of land after unsuccessfully trying to wipe them all out. I talked to Aunt Sophie about it one summer when I was...15?” She pondered a moment. “Yeah, 15. During my “Angry Teen” phase. Heh. I was furious at the injustice and inequality, I wanted to hurt all of the people that were hurting my people, and I vented to Aunt Sophie about it because I figured that since she was close to it all, she’d support me.”

“And did she?” Grimm drank from her own bottle. She leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on the table.

Amanda nodded. “She did--but not in the way that 15-year old me thought she would. She just asked me a question: “How will burning a house down help when the people inside are already suffering, Little Mouse?”” She smiled. “Then she said “Come on, let’s go drive around.” So we drove over to a nearby farmstand, and Aunt Sophie spent every last dollar she had buying as much as she could. Just about bought the place out, filled the back of her old station wagon to the gills with a crapton of food. Then we took all that food that she bought, and she had me help her divide it into boxes that we loaded back into the car.” Amanda took another drink from her bottle. “All those food boxes--we took them around to impoverished White families.”

“Really?”

“Yep, really.” Amanda nodded. “Aunt Sophie also gave them some non-food stuff too, toilet paper and other things that they needed for their households. And we didn’t talk about it until suppertime. That’s when Aunt Sophie asked me, “have you had some time to think about today?” She put a hand on her heart and smiled. “And I had--she was teaching me that the work of a revolution isn’t done just through armed struggle. It’s also done through picking up a wrench, so to speak. Even though there’s inequality and oppression, and even though the system in place was deliberately set up to make people who look like me--” she waved a hand over her light-brown face. “--and Zeke and Chantal have to work twice or thrice as hard to get even half the respect from the White Man, there are also people who look like you and Steve who also suffer under that same system. It's easier for White folks to get out of poverty, but that also requires some luck unless they have a rich uncle. They need help too, and we can’t leave them behind.”

Grimm nodded. “Your Aunt is a wise woman.”

“She was raised by wise people,” Amanda replied. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was living the stuff that Grampy and Granny taught her and Dad when they were growing up. See, Grampy was a Wobblie--would have been Full Commie, but no fucking way was he going to even _think_ of carrying water for the Soviets. But one thing he told me when I was little was that humanity by its very nature is a collective species that’s at its best when working together; and the sooner we all realized that, the better our chances for survival would be.” She nodded. “And he was right.”

Grimm took another drink from her water and looked up at the ceiling for a few minutes. “Yeah, I guess he is right.” She brushed some hair away from her face and looked at Amanda again. “That why our unofficial motto is “we all lift together”?”

“Partly--Though really it’s a much better interpretation of the original US Motto: E Pluribus Unum. At least in my opinion.” Amanda took another drink from her bottle. “So...yeah. I realized not just how incredibly lucky I was compared to a fuckton of other kids who are Indigenous, but that I also had a responsibility to do work if I wanted things to be better for people who aren't me.”

A chime sounded in the meeting room, and ISAC pulled up the camera to show a blue bandana-wearing Riker walking into the Clinic.

“And it looks like Chantal’s here for today’s practicum,” Amanda said with a smile. “Let’s go say hey before I go do some more tinker-work and you get down to teaching.” She and Grimm got up from their seats and headed out of the war room.

  
  
  


**Wall Street**

LJ smacked the Riker in the face with the butt of his shotgun, knocking her cold. “Sorry,” he said softly. He hacked the lock on the yellow supply crate and swiped the contents. “Petri dishes...cell cultures…lab equipment... Well then.” He scrambled to the next crate and hacked its lock. “And parts in here...OK, that’s for an incubator, probably for the cell cultures.” A nearby Riker stirred from unconsciousness, and LJ put a finger to his lips to indicate that he needed silence. The gangster slumped back down, and LJ flashed them a thumbs-up.

“So the Rikers are helping Keener with that bioweapon,” Kelso commented. “Lovely.”

LJ pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s not good. Though evidence that I’ve found so far indicates that the assistance is being provided under duress. Doesn’t change that it’s a bad thing, though.”

“And it doesn’t change City Hall,” Benitez responded. “You know that Dragov needs to answer for that!”

LJ hustled downstairs, picking up a couple of spare mags along the way. “You know I have opinions on that, Roy.”

“We can talk about that later,” Benitez answered in his distinctive gravelly voice. LJ gave a half-snort before reopening his comms.

“True enough!” He passed by a glass-walled conference room and stopped when he spotted a flash of something gold. He looked one way and then the other before picking the lock on the door and slipping inside. He walked over to the coffee service that was set up along the far wall, and found the item that had drawn his attention: several large sealed bags of ground Kerman Coffee. “Oh, he’s gonna love this.” LJ slipped off his pack after carefully checking to make sure no one was trying to sneak up on him, and opened it. He carefully secured the bags of coffee, shifting some smaller items from his pack to his tool belt and pockets before closing his pack and putting it on again.

Resistance in the Exchange Building was sparse. LJ dropped onrushing Rikers with subduing blows from his fists or the butt of his shotgun. One Riker who still wore a red bandana, however, had other ideas. The shotgun-wielding gangster levelled his weapon and fired off a blast that sent LJ ducking for cover. “Fuck you, Division! I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Oh fer crissakes….” LJ took a small finned dart off his belt and fitted a flash to it, then tossed it in the general direction of his assailant. ISAC ignited the propeller charge on the dart’s body, and guided it toward its target before setting off the flash. The flash blinded the Riker long enough for LJ to run up and deliver a right cross that staggered his opponent and gave the agent a chance to get away. “Dumbass,” he muttered, shaking his head as he trotted toward the trading floor.

The trading floor was empty save for a single spotlight in the middle of the room that illuminated the target of LJ’s hunt: James Dragov.

  
  


**Dragov**

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dragov muttered. His HUD still showed red, and still tracked the Division agent heading toward his location.

“Well, one of your people didn’t get the message and tried to kill the messenger,” Steve Rodgers said. “You may want to have a word with him when this is said and done.”

Dragov rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Fuckin’ Tweak,” he replied. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

“James...look. I know you and I didn’t always see eye to eye on a lot of things when we were with the Division--but you’re definitely making the right move here. Also…” A sigh, and then he continued, “I was wrong about the Island. You were right to toss the keys to Barret like you did--I didn’t understand her anger at the time, but once it was explained to me...well. She’s what the Rikers needed at the time. And you’re what they need now.”

Dragov nodded. “Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that.” He stroked his beard and cocked his head to one side as he heard the sounds of gunfire. “And it’s showtime.”

“You’ve got this, big guy. I’m just going to sit and listen in.”

  
  


**LJ**

“Arrgh!” LJ dove behind a desk and swapped out the plate on his body armour. “OK, slugs hurt even if they’re so-called “non-lethal” rounds!”

_Affirmative._

“ISAC, you’re not helping.” More rounds flew over the agent’s head, and he responded by firing a couple of shots at random. “Fuckin’ hell!” He flung another flash-charge at the Rikers who were firing on him, and dove through a broken window overlooking the trading floor.

_SCIF activated. Communications secured._

Dragov stood there in the pool of light, arms crossed. <<You really think you can rebuild?>> he asked in Russian.

<<Absolutely we can,>> LJ replied. <<Mom told you that there’s going to have to be an uncomfortable conversation when this is all over, right?>>

Dragov nodded and studied the Division agent in front of him for several long moments before finally taking off his watch. “Here. Don’t fuck it up,” he said.

On cue, ISAC said _Rogue Agent...deceased._

LJ nodded and held out his hand. Dragov took the agent’s hand and shook it, nodding in return.

“Two down, two to go” Lau said in LJ’s ear. “I can use that watch to see if we can get any more information on Keener’s whereabouts.”

Before he could respond, Benitez cut in. “Hey LJ,” he said, “you may want to head down to Pier 26--a few of my scouts have reported that the Rikers have something going on there that could be connected to Keener.”

“I’ll check it out immediately,” LJ said. He turned the dial on his watch a couple of clicks, and held the face over the face of Dragov’s watch. A blue scan pulse ran over the rogue watch for a minute before ISAC popped a message in blue text on LJ’s HUD.

_Watch cloned. Warning: do not trust any dead drops; we have a mole. I recommend continuing as normal to keep the mole from getting suspicious._

LJ nodded a bit, and looked over toward the Tower. “Welp, that’s that.” He sighed a bit, then said “Hey ISAC, can you plot me the least obnoxious path to Pier 26?”

_“Obnoxious” not found._

“Too vague?” LJ asked.

_Affirmative._ A distant pip and pathing plot appeared on LJ’s HUD. The AI was still playing his part.

“Plot me the most direct path to Pier 26.”

_Highlighting most expedient route._

“Thanks.”

  
  


**Amanda**

Amanda closed the back of the SmartWatch she’d been working on. She flipped it over and set it on the stand next to her. “Okay ISAC, it’s ready for you.”

_Calibrating. Please stand by._

The stand lit up bright blue, and the ring on the watch started to light up. After several minutes, the watch’s ring was a brilliant steady blue.

_Calibration complete._

“Thanks, son.” Amanda turned in her seat as she heard the lab door open. She smiled and held up the watch. “This watch,” she said to the person who came in flanked by Steve and Grimm as she stood up, “is a sacred trust--by accepting it, you’re making clear that you understand that you’re accountable to the people that you’re protecting as well as to the rest of us in the Initiative.” She held it out. “Here.”

James Dragov took the watch. “You’ve given me a lot to think about over the last couple of months,” he said. “Even with all of Keener’s bullshit.” He looked at the watch, then back at Amanda. “I’ll do my best to not let you down.”

“Don’t let yourself down,” Amanda gently admonished. “This is a second chance, for you _and_ for the Rikers. Wall Street’s becoming a Settlement in its own right thanks to the work your people are doing--that’s a good thing.” 

“And our side ventures?”

Amanda shrugged. “The Black Market’s always going to exist--not a lot that can be done about that. The Clinic here is always open for people who use recreationals, so that they can have a clean place and--if they decide they’re ready to stop using--get the care they need. We’re already looking at opening similar clinics in other parts of the City.”

The muscular ex-cop stroked his beard. “And if my people decide to go legit?”

“I don’t see any reason why the rooftop gardens near Wall Street can’t be expanded to grow food that can be traded to other Settlements.” She smiled and put a hand on Dragov’s shoulder. “You joined the Division because you believe in justice and protecting regular people from abuse by those in power, James; Case Blue strives to be what the Division should have been in the first place--a shield, to protect the people so they can heal and rebuild while also holding hostile forces to account.”

Dragov thought for a moment, then nodded. “Restorative justice.” He put on the watch. The face lit up again, and Dragov saw his HUD’s outline change from its former angry red to a reassuring sky-blue as ISAC spoke in his earpiece.

_Welcome to the Case Blue Initiative, James Dragov._

  
  



	11. Bait and Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda Collier and Alani Kelso finally meet as LJ prepares for one last mission before his showdown with Aaron Keener.

**The Battery, Lower Manhattan** **  
** **1 Hour before Dawn**

  
  


LJ came up from the caverns beneath Battery Park and slumped against the wall. He was tired, he was hungry, and Javier Kajika had put him through the wringer. After sending a text to Kelso letting her know that he’d be finding a secure location to catnap for a bit before heading back with Kajika’s watch, he started to head in the general direction of the nearest community.

_ Mother is nearby. _ ISAC put a sky-blue pip atop a nearby building.  _ No hostiles. _

“Is that a hint, little brother?”

_ You should go talk to her. _

LJ sighed. “Okay.” ISAC plotted a path to a rappel rig that had been set up by an agent months ago. LJ followed the path, sweeping the muzzle of his shotgun across the openings of any alleys and side streets in case a Cleaner tried to get the drop on him again. He hooked his motorized rappeller to the rope and made his way up the side of the building, then followed ISAC’s route up fire escapes and staircases until he got to the roof. He opened the roof access door and peeked out, shotgun ready. “Mom?”

“Over here, hon.” Amanda sat cross-legged atop an HVAC unit, calmly eating a burrito. “You get everything out of the house?” she whispered.

LJ nodded. Amanda was wearing a dark hooded cloak that obscured most of her features. “Mom…”

“Hmm?”

“What’s in that electrified case?”

Amanda took a deep breath. “Something that I hope I never have to use. Why?”

“Are we gonna make it, Mom?” LJ clambered up on the HVAC unit next to his mother, and she put her arm around him. 

“Sweetie,” Amanda whispered as she gave her son a hug and kissed him on the cheek, “we’ll do everything we can, and at the end of the day we have to hope that it’ll be enough.” She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “You have anything to eat today?”

LJ shrugged. “Pulled a couple crabapples from a tree near the Hugh Carey Tunnel.”

“Oh for…” Amanda rolled her eyes, then opened her bugout-bag to get out a ration pack. “Here--eat.”

“Oasis Park.” Grimm’s whisper in Amanda’s ear drew her attention to a nearby side street. She got out a pair of night-vision binoculars and looked through them to see a lone figure sticking to the shadows as they made their way toward a wrecked pier.

“Got it,” Amanda whispered back. “Well I’ll be…”

LJ saw his mom’s attention drawn to a ruined park, and craned his neck to look. Amanda put up a hand and made a “down” motion.

“Eat,” she whispered. “That’s not a request.”

“Yes ma’am,” LJ whispered back with a sigh. He hunkered down next to the HVAC unit and held the ration pack against him to muffle the sound that its plastic wrapping made as he opened it. “Can I at least listen in?” he asked.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “It’s okay ISAC.”

_ Subject identified. _

Amanda saw the figure outlined in orange, and let out a soft chuckle. “Well that’s unique...”

“There’s somebody else approaching the park,” LJ heard a female voice whisper. “Gotta be our mole--they’re heading toward a dinghy down by the water. I see...three armed subjects. Shifting position for a better look.”

“Keeping an eye on the targets,” Amanda whispered. “ISAC, patch in our little helper down there would you?”

LJ quietly ate one of the protein bars from the ration pack as he listened.

“Rhodes is not gonna like this.” Kelso’s voice came over the line, just above a whisper, and LJ almost choked on the last of his bar.

_ Mole hunt, _ ISAC explained to his brother.  _ Eat your food. _

The first rays of light started to peek over the horizon as Grimm crept into position to hide in a pile of garbage on the overpass. “Christ, I’ll need a shower after this,” she whispered. She got out her scope and looked through it. “IDing...three Black Tusk assets...and there’s our mole. Oh yeah, Rhodes will lose his shit over this. How do you want to play this, Boss Lady?”

“We’re just watching and listening. ISAC, you able to get any audio pickup?”

_ Accessing backdoor. _

“So,” the leader of the trio said, “you plant the bait for the little prince?”

“All of it. He hasn’t come back with the third watch yet. I think he told Kelso he was going to find someplace to nap before coming back to Haven.”

LJ took a deep breath and counted to ten before letting it out. “ISAC,” he whispered, “we cloned all the data from the watches we got before handing them over, right?”

_ Yes we did. _

“Good.” He opened another protein bar and angrily took a bite out of it. “

“I think he’s getting suspicious,” the mole said. “Either that or he just doesn’t like me much.”

“Well that’s his problem. Long as we find Keener first, that’s all that matters--once we’ve taken him out and gotten the package, we can deal with the wayward son and that mother of his.” The man snorted. “The Chief will be unhappy, but he’ll at least let us off-leash to do what needs to be done.”

“Well that’s not very nice,” Amanda whispered.

“Mom…” LJ whispered.

“Relax,” Amanda replied, “we’ll deal with him. ISAC, let Kelso know where your brother and I are camped.”

_ Done. _

LJ spotted movement, and got out a long-range scope. He looked through it to see a red-banded Riker patrol walking along the bridge toward Grimm’s position. “Rikers coming from the west-northwest on the bridge,” he whispered. “Red-band, led by a Blue. Looks like a supply caravan.”

“Thanks kiddo,” Grimm replied. “I’ll stay still and let ‘em pass unless they try to break up the party.”

LJ raised an eyebrow. “Then w--nevermind. Just answered my own question.”

Grimm chuckled softly. “Smart boy.”

“That’s why we keep him around,” Amanda jibed.

LJ heard a slight whirring sound and looked over to see Kelso coming up onto the roof. He waved her over and put a finger to his lips. “We gotta keep it down,” he whispered before fishing out Kajika’s watch and handing it to her. “Here--tell Lau you came to find me at the nearby community center or something.”

Kelso nodded.

“Oh, before I forget: Mom, Kelso. Kelso, Mom.” Amanda gave a thumbs-up while watching the meeting break up through her binoculars. The dinghy drifted a few feet out into the Hudson before one of the people on it started the motor.

“ISAC,” Amanda whispered, “you get a fix on the signal from that cloned satphone?”

_ Affirmative. Target is 20km north-northeast. _

“Gotcha. Pass that along to Deerstalker and the folks in University Square so they can keep an eye on it, please.”

_ Done. _

“Thanks son.” Amanda turned and closed up the binoculars as she slid off the HVAC unit. “Hi Alani,” she said with a smile as she stuck out a hand. “I’m LJ’s mom--but you’re welcome to just call me Mandy. Everyone does.”

“Except Dad,” LJ added.

Amanda nodded. “Except your dad. To everyone else we’re Drew and Mandy, but we always call each other by our full first names--you know, I don’t know why we do that to be honest. Probably because we’re comfortable with that.” She fished out another ration pack and offered it to Kelso. “Here,” she said. “You look like you haven’t been eating very well the last couple of weeks.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kelso said, politely declining the ration.

LJ chuckled. “Kelso, if Mom, M.D. is pointing out that you should eat, trust me--you need food about as badly as I do right now.” He opened the entree portion of his ration, and looked at the flameless heater for a moment. “Eh,” he said, “I think I like this better when it’s cold.” He put the ration heater in his backpack, then started in on the entree. “Mmm,” he commented between bites, “the folks in Natick really made some nice ones.” He looked at Kelso and said, “When I was in Afghanistan, we used to trade with the other countries’ troops that were there--and the locals, too. Let me tell you, the Italians and the French? Holy shit, their rations are gourmet! The Canadians have a few good ones too--especially the Poutine.”

“Poutine?” Kelso asked.

“Thick-cut french fries and cheese curds with gravy poured over it,” Amanda explained as she got out her own ration pack. “French-Canadian dish--the snack that eats like a meal. Grimmy, you want to come have breakfast with us?”

“Oh gods no Mandy,” Grimm replied, “I smell awful! There’s a Riker community nearby. I’m gonna grab a shower there and head back to the clinic. Chantal and I have some more burn victims today, no thanks to the goddamn Cleaners.”

“Oh,” Amanda said, “that one where Zeke and Steve helped set up the water-recycling system? Tell them I said hey!”

“Will do. Talk to you later, Alani.”

“Seeya Shann.” Kelso took a look at her ration. “Filled French Toast? Hmm. Sounds better than Poutine,” she commented.

LJ chuckled and took a drink from a bottle of water. “It only sounds weird, but really it’s pretty tasty. There was this restaurant I went to in Montreal one time with my Gramma Letty--we’d gone up there to watch the Daggers take on the Royaux in the playoffs. They served lobster poutine there,” he gushed, “it was so good.” He let out a sigh. “I miss Gramma Letty. Not because she spent fuckloads of cash on me even though I told her many times she didn’t have to, but because she was one of the most supportive people outside of my parents and Mom’s side of the family. You remember that turtle we saw when we were heading out the emergency exit?”

Kelso nodded. “Yeah, I do--the one that you said was probably going to be nesting.”

“Yeah--when I was 8, this lost terrapin found her way into our back yard and decided that my sandbox was a good place to make her nest.”

Amanda smiled. “Big Mama,” she said.

“That was her!” LJ grinned at the memory. “In school we’d just learned about the diamondback terrapin and how it was threatened by human encroachment--so I decided it was a good idea to make an enclosure over the sandbox so that she’d stay warm and we could keep any predators from going after the eggs.” He nodded toward Amanda. “Mom and Dad both helped, though Dad’s help was more him taking pictures and going to the local home center to get materials.”

“It was still help,” Amanda chided. LJ rolled his eyes and took a big bite of his sandwich. “So after LJ got the enclosure built, he called Letty to tell her all about it.” She smiled at the memory. “He sent her copies of the pictures that he and Andrew took, made a video diary for her…”

Kelso laughed a bit. “Wow, when you Colliers do something you don’t half-ass it do you?”

“Oh hell no,” LJ said. “Bugs the piss out of me when something’s half-assed. The First Wave? Waller half-assed the fuck out of that--to say nothing of Dad’s stupid-ass decision to abandon them.” He grimaced. “Don’t even get me started on that.”

“Your dad and I have already had that conversation, sweetie.” Amanda gently nudged LJ. “And he told me that you practically channeled your Grandpapa when you lit him up for it, so there’s no need to beat the horse into undeath.” She smiled softly. “But yeah--Letty loved LJ more than anything.” She sighed and added, “I wish more people knew the Andrew Ellis that my son and I know.”

“What do you mean?” Kelso asked. “He always struck me as kind of a hardass, except with the Sheriff here.”

Amanda smiled. “Yeah--that’s the doting father in him. The tie pin that he wears, the eagle with blue eyes? LJ made that for him when he was 12. It’s got to be one of his most prized possessions next to the engagement ring that I gave him.” She pulled a ring out of her pocket and showed it to Kelso; a red-gold and silver band set with several large square-cut red-orange stones.. “This is mine--we had them made for each other. I don’t wear it in the field, for obvious reasons.”

“That’s impressive. What stone is that?”

“Sunstone. Andrew’s ring has a cabochon-cut sunstone flanked by two blue topazes.” Amanda smiled. “I wanted something that matched his eyes,” she commented. She sighed, “I love Andrew, and we can get him away from Black Tusk and their backers so that he can do the right thing--I just don’t like what Washington turned him into.”

Kelso started to ask a question when Lau interrupted on comms. “Kelso, this is Lau--any word from Agent Collier?”

“I’m right here,” LJ said, faking a yawn. “Kelso came and rousted me from my nap.” He handed the watch to Kelso and nodded to her before saying, “I’m going to go after Conley--Kelso’s on her way back with Kajika’s watch.”

“Good,” came the reply. “Lau out.”

_ Unpleasant, _ ISAC snarked.

“Yeah little brother, that she is.” LJ looked to Kelso. “Don’t be surprised if ISAC starts using complete sentences with you more often, by the way.” He smiled. “And you may want to warn Manny, so he doesn’t fall out of his chair when ISAC gives him an honest opinion about something.” The young agent laughed. “Anyway--I’ve been cloning the data from the watches. So when our mole does the inevitable heel turn, we won’t be caught flat-footed.”

“I’ll take the heat from Paul,” Amanda said as she started packing up her trash. “I’m the one keeping the secret on this, and I’ll take the responsibility for it when all is said and done.”

“I heard what Schaeffer said by the way,” Kelso mentioned. “I think you're aware that your clinic’s going to be a primary target for the Black Tusk.” She packed up the uneaten portions of her ration and stowed them in her pack. “Just...be careful.” She reached over to give LJ a soft poke in the ribs and added, “and you get a hold of me when you get to that tanker.”

"We'll be ready for them," Amanda replied. "Thanks."

LJ nodded and watched Kelso disappear over the side of the rooftop. “What do you think?” He looked at his mother and added, “and before you say anything, I think she and our DC Coordinator have a thing. Don’t quote me on that though.”

Amanda laughed. “It’s fine, son. And I rather like her. ISAC thinks highly of her too.” She sighed and looked back toward Pathway Park. “Javier really made you work for it, didn’t he?” She saw LJ nod. “Not surprising. Did he say anything to you at the end?”

LJ nodded. “Yeah, but he said it was for me alone,” he said. “ISAC didn’t record it, either.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face for a moment. “He did have a message for you, though: ‘Jiyū.’ He said you’d understand.”

Amanda pondered for a moment. “Yeah. I do understand.” She nodded and waved toward Two Bridges. “Go get Conley, hon--when it’s time to end this, we’ll be with you.”

Amanda watched her son go to deal with the leader of the Cleaners, then turned to look out on the Hudson. She let out a heavy sigh and wiped away a tear. “I’m sorry my love,” she whispered, “that it had to end this way.” 


	12. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LJ has his showdown with Aaron Keener.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Irrumabo!" is Latin for "suck my dick". And the Admiral Farragut comment refers to Rear Adm David Farragut, famous for the quote that's often paraphrased as "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!"

**Staten Island Ferry Terminal**

LJ walked up the street to the ferry terminal and spotted the assault drones. “Ah shit.” He ducked behind a pillar on one side of the entrance and peeked around the edge to count the number of black uniforms in evidence. “Looks like at least ten out front,” he whispered.

“More inside,” Kelso whispered back. “They’ve scuttled one ferry already, and they’re going to try scuttling the other two. Try to stop them before they get the one that I happen to be hiding on.”

_Friendly combatants nearby._ ISAC marked several blue pips on LJ’s HUD. _Patching in communications._

“Got that diversion ready?” a male voice asked.

“Ready to throw them out on your go.” Grimm.

“The kiddo is out front--let’s see if we can’t make a hole for him.”

He saw several small objects flying over the south fence to land in front of the Black Tusk soldiers. He quickly peeked around the pillar through the scope on his SMG and saw it: a small ceramic turtle like the one his mother had used for the dead drop outside Haven.

One of the soldiers guarding the terminal walked over to one of the turtles and picked it up to get a better look at it. The turtle detonated in his hand, followed by the rest. LJ hustled around the pillar and flung his seeker mines out before opening up with short bursts from his SMG as he ducked into cover behind a barrier. He spotted several people vaulting over the fence, and opened his comms.

“Grimm, that you?”

Grimm ran up to join him in cover with her AK-47. “You betcher ass, sonny. Your mom’s back at the tower battening down the hatches with help from one of our newest operatives. Cap and I are here to provide support.”

"Name's Steve," the reedy blonde replied. "But I answer to both. Good to meet you, Turtle!"

LJ nodded and switched to his crossbow. He fired a bolt into the backpack of a Black Tusk trooper carrying a minigun, then swapped it out for his shotgun as the trooper’s backpack exploded. Grimm unloaded a full magazine into the trooper as Steve dropped an onrushing shotgunner with his pistol.

“Grimmy,” somebody radioed, “Tower reports a roach infestation; we’re heading to provide pest control once you’re in the terminal.”

“Don’t wait,” Grimm replied. “We’ve got this.” She fired a burst at a drone operator, forcing them into cover long enough for LJ to blast the assault drones and take out the operator and an assault trooper unlucky enough to be standing near them. The trio fought toward the gates leading to the ferries right as a massive series of explosions shook the building.

“Second ferry down,” a voice said. “Third is about to go!”

“You’d better hurry,” Schaeffer radioed to his people. “The Division’s just about on top of you.”

The trio plowed through a crew setting up explosives on the garage deck of the remaining ferry, quickly disabling the charges as they went. Kelso met them on the stairs to the passenger deck. “They’re waiting for you,” she told them. “They’ve set up more explosives.”

LJ nodded and tossed his seeker mine up the stairs. ISAC showed a mix of orange and blue trails as the cluster charges homed in on their targets. A .50 caliber round barely missed LJ as he came up the stairs, and he rolled to his left to take cover behind a booth. Grimm did the same but rolled to her right. Steve paused just before the top of the stairs and took aim with his Tac-50 sniper rifle, dropping the Black Tusk sniper before he and Kelso came up into the seating area. The four-man squad ran forward and took cover just in time to greet a squad of Black Tusk soldiers, including a couple of grenadiers. Steve popped up and fired off a pistol shot that detonated a grenade right as it came out of one of the grenadiers’ launchers. The explosion wiped out the squad, and LJ moved up to disable the explosives. “Kelso, you don’t have any idea how many are up by the wheelhouse do you?”

“Not a clue,” she replied. “I was too busy hiding and hoping that you’d get to me in time.”

“Fair enough.” LJ checked the mag on his SMG. “I’m ready when you are,” he said. He looked to Grimm and Steve. “You don’t have to come with,” he said.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You’re shitting us, right? All four of us are going after Keener--so let’s get this show on the road.”

LJ nodded. He headed up to the top deck and tossed his seeker mine, following it up with a blinder that staggered the Black Tusk long enough for the rest of the squad to follow him. After a brief firefight the four of them gathered in the wheelhouse.

“Roach infestation has been dealt with,” James Dragov’s voice came over the comms. “Beat the fuck out of Keener for us, will you?”

LJ looked at Kelso. “Mom’s going to be the one to explain it to Paul and Roy,” he said. He started the ferry’s engines. “Cap, anything on the horizon?”

“Big black hovercraft,” Steve responded. ISAC highlighted the rocket launchers on the hovercraft’s deck. “Schaeffer’s waiting for us.”

“ _Cave Testudo_ ,” LJ quipped as he shifted the ferry’s throttle to maximum. He narrowed his eyes, set his jaw, and whispered “Here’s to you, Admiral Farragut.”

“Incoming,” Grimm called out as trails of white exhaust smoke arced from the deck of the hovercraft. “Everyone brace!”

The quartet ducked for cover as the ferry headed toward Liberty Island. Rockets and autocannon fire pelted the craft until it finally crashed hard into the island.

“No signs of movement from the ferry,” a voice said over the radio.

“Begin the assault.” Schaeffer. "I guess I have to think of what to say to the Chief now," he added.

LJ slowly rose to his feet and took a deep breath. The ferry’s cabin was full of smoke and debris. Kelso was down on her hands and knees, gasping. LJ went to help her up, and she waved him off.

“I’ll be okay,” she said. “I just need to catch my breath. Get the others.”

“We’re here,” Steve said. “But just.” He got to his feet and helped Grimm up. She had some bruises and a few small cuts and scratches, but was otherwise okay. Steve was in similar shape. “Kelso,” Steve told the Division agent, “we can’t leave you behind.”

“Go!” she ordered. “I’ll be fine! Beat the fuck out of Keener for me!”

LJ opened the cabin door.

_Incoming transmission._

“Welcome to Liberty Island,” Aaron Keener greeted them. “I see the Division and Case Blue really went out of their way to send their tired and their poor.”

LJ snorted. “Fuck you,” he shot back. “You smug no-talent assclown.”

A laugh came over the line. “I don’t think your mother would say I’m untalented,” Keener needled him. “Perhaps you should ask her about it...if you make it off this island.”

“Your mom jokes, Keener?” LJ jabbed as he and his squad made their way into the visitor center. “Really? What are you, twelve?!” 

Keener laughed at the clapback, but said nothing else.

The squad came around a corner to see an orange circle painted around a cast of an ear, with the caption _Do you hear what I hear?_ scrawled next to it. Steve looked around at that and other symbols and scrawls. “He’s gone,” the operative whispered. “Signs of megalomania and psychosis. Jesus, what happened to him in the Dark Zone?”

“Nothing good,” LJ said with a grimace. “He claims his eyes were opened, but...yeah.” He nodded toward the outer courtyard. “Movement in the courtyard--probably Black Tusk.” The squad headed toward the visitor center’s atrium, arriving just in time to see multiple EMPs go off.

_Hostile radio intercepted._

“We’ve taken out the last of the jammers,” a Black Tusk soldier radioed. “We’re ready to go pick up the package.”

“Deploy the Razorback,” Schaeffer ordered. From cover, Grimm looked up to see a large platform being ferried to the island by a cargo chopper.

“What the hell is that thing?”

LJ unloaded two rounds into a Black Tusk medic and replied, “Drone platform--I and a few other DC-based agents took out the prototype at Reagan Airport a couple months back.” After dispatching a rushing trooper, he added, “at least there aren’t any goddamn rocket launchers with this one...I hope. ISAC, prep a jammer please.”

_Done._

“Thanks. Any more mercs needing a beatdown?”

_Not in the immediate area._

LJ got up from cover and went to regroup with Steve and Grimm. “OK--so Razorback. It likes to spit out drones, but ISAC and I know its weak spots thanks to our encounter with the prototype. My advice is to get a jammer ready, and be prepared to use it early and often.”

“Well well kiddo...you have to take out the Razorback,” Keener purred in his comms, “but it will indirectly benefit your opponent. Talk about a real Catch-22.”

“It’s called _prioritization_ you fucking shithead,” LJ snapped. “Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell did my mother ever see in you?!”

Keener laughed. “I think you should ask yourself why your father threw her aside like he did.”

Steve put a hand on LJ’s shoulder and shook his head. “You know he’s trying to get under your skin,” he said off-comms. When LJ nodded, Steve smiled and patted his shoulder. “OK.”

“Whatever,” LJ fired back at Keener as he went to check the bodies of the fallen mercs. “That hunk of junk is just a speed bump on the path to me giving you a richly-deserved beatdown.” He looted some spare mags and a couple of grenades as Keener laughed in his ear again, and picked up a shotgun that he tossed to Grimm. “What do you think of that one?” he asked her.

Grimm sighted down the muzzle and cocked the slide. “This is a nice one. Slugs, too!”

LJ grinned. “The only way to go, far as I’m concerned.” He grabbed a couple pouches of slug rounds that were laying nearby and tossed one to Grimm. “Let’s go.”

“The Division’s here, with rogue support!”

Schaeffer growled, “Whatever you do, do _not_ let them near the Razorback! We can use its drones to neutralize Keener and secure the package!”

“ _Irrumabo_!” LJ bellowed as he flung his seeker mine into a middle of Black Tusk. He heard Grimm laugh over comms, and smirked as his cluster munitions sent bodies flying.

_Drones inbound,_ ISAC warned the squad. Steve darted into the middle of a copse of trees and primed his jammer to its maximum setting, then activated it. The Razorback’s drones fell to the ground in sparking pieces.

“There’ll be more,” LJ cautioned. “It can manufacture the little bastards on the fly.” He ran up and took cover behind one of the pillars flanking the entrance to the courtyard, tossing his seeker mine to clear the way.

“So Johnathan,” Keener asked, “who are you here for; the Division, or Case Blue?” LJ ignored the question and focused his ire on the Razorback and its Black Tusk tenders. As soon as the drone platform lay in pieces, ISAC did a quick scan of the site.

“I can see why the Division picked you for this op,” Keener remarked. “Your mother taught you well.”

LJ growled. “Keener, just fucking stop.”

“Very well,” the rogue agent chuckled. “Come around the back way--as you can see, the front entrance is a little obstructed. But you’re smart, I’m sure you’ll find a way around it.

”

Steve put a hand on LJ’s chest. “Hold up,” he said softly. “You okay?” He smiled a bit. “In the old world I was a psychiatrist--so if I sound a little like a shrink, it’s because...well.” He raised both eyebrows a bit. “If you need a moment, we can take one.”

LJ took a deep breath. “I’ll...I’ll be fine. I...you know Keener and my mom dated for a while after my parents divorced right?” Steve nodded, and LJ sighed. “So, yeah.”

“You’ve got this, Turtle.” Steve patted him on the shoulder. “The three of us will stop him, and we’ll stop Black Tusk from taking anything off this island.”

“Tower to Hatchling.” Dragov’s voice came over the comms. “Status.”

LJ took a deep breath. “I’m okay--how are things there?”

“Black Tusk attempted an incursion, but we handled them. Minor casualties at best; your mom and Chantal are tending to the injured.”

“Good.”

“Do me a favour,” Dragov said. “Put a few rounds into Keener for my people.”

“Will do.” LJ looked at his squadmates. “Ready?”

“Right with you kiddo!” Grimm patted LJ on the back. “Let’s finish this so we can focus on rebuilding.” She shot off the lock to the rear gate. “You’re squad leader--so after you!”

The squad followed a maintenance road to the rear of the monument. Schaeffer’s hovercraft loomed in the distance like a menacing juggernaut. A cargo chopper dropped several Warhound-class walkers, and headed back to the hovercraft as a giant recon drone made its way to the island.

_Marauder-class Quadcopter inbound._

“Thanks little brother.” LJ prepared to throw his seeker mine out when a figure appeared in a flash of smoke and his HUD filled with static.

_System disrupted._

“Goddammit.” LJ stayed in cover as Keener toyed with the Black Tusk soldiers. “Focus fire on that hacked drone,” he said. “The Warhounds will tend to themselves.” LJ took a potshot at Keener with his pistol, which distracted him enough to allow the squad to take down the Marauder.

_System restored._ ISAC painted the Warhounds’ weak points with markers, and planted a marker on Keener’s face for good measure. _Pick your targets._

The squad made short work of the Warhounds, to Keener’s delight and Schaeffer’s consternation. “Well,” Keener said, “now that we’ve broken all of their toys why not come to the Plinth so we can have a more...personal chat?”

“Only if that chat involves me unloading a slug or three into your face,” LJ snarked as he topped up the magazine of his shotgun. “Motherfucker.”

“Yes,” Keener shot back, “I certainly...well. A gentleman never kisses and tells. See you soon.”

LJ took a deep breath, then opened his comms. “Mom,” he said, “I have _got_ to know--what did you ever see in that guy?”

“The Aaron I knew was...well, he wasn’t the dark and vengeful being that you’re hunting.” Amanda’s voice was sad, wistful. “ Keener is a predator--be ready for anything.”

“Noted. Love you Mom.”

LJ heard the smile in his mother’s voice when she replied, “Love you too. Be careful.”

Steve and Grimm both patted LJ as he opened the doors to the interior of the monument and descended into the darkness.

Keener had left ECHOes for the squad--LJ in particular. “Trying to corral the Rikers and destroy the Cleaners...all that was a distraction while I worked to ensure the second half of my legacy,” he bragged in the last ECHO. “Ask your mother about the first half...though if you live, I’m sure you’ll see it soon enough.”

LJ narrowed his eyes.

_Trap,_ ISAC commented. _Can’t find a way around it._

“Fuck my life,” LJ huffed. “Welp, into the breach I guess.” He hopped over the balcony to the floor of the monument’s interior, followed by Steve and Grimm. A laptop sat open at the side of the room. LJ walked over to it and shook his head. “I’m not playing your game, fucker!” he bellowed. He walked over to the nearby exit and kicked the sliding doors out of their tracks. “I’m sick of this shit--let’s go put this sad meatsack the fuck down already.”

“Right with you,” Grimm said as she began to free-climb up the side of the elevator shaft. “Don’t trust that rope,” she told the others. “Knowing Keener, he’ll try to hang us with it.” LJ and Steve followed Grimm to the top, coming out in a dusty anteroom. A set of footprints led outside. “Ready or not,” Grimm started to say.

“Here we come.” LJ kicked open the door and walked out to see Keener in a control room with an antenna. Electricity arced up the antenna, a sign that it was overpowered. A Tomahawk cruise missile was parked on a launch platform, and faint wisps of red smoke came from it. “Ah shit,” he said as he put on his CBRN facemask. A couple of supply crates sat on either side of the launch platform, the locks blinking red.

“Ah, you made it.” Keener smirked as he punched in commands. “I was worried that you’d miss the grand finale--after all, you’ve earned the right to witness this new beginning. Who knows? Perhaps when you see the culmination of all my hard work, you’ll understand what I’ve been trying to accomplish.”

_Viral payload detected_ , ISAC announced.

“That’s right,” Keener crowed, “there’s an Eclipse payload on that missile. Imagine that!”

ISAC marked a nearby generator platform, and LJ ran to it. He got out a flathead screwdriver and quickly pried off one of the panels, then jammed the screwdriver into the generator’s internals, bringing it to a screeching smoking halt. “ISAC,” he called out as he yanked the screwdriver out, “mark some spots that we can hit without triggering launch _or_ the dispersal of that shit. Grimm, you and Steve concentrate your fire on that thing--I’m going to try getting that fuckwit out of his little hideyhole.”

“You’re such a waste of skill and commitment, Turtle. Your mother’s held you back when you could have done wonders with the gift she gave you.”

“You don’t get to call me that, Keener.”

As his squadmates opened up on the missile’s launch platform, LJ hustled to another generator and disabled it the same way he’d done the first. Keener triggered drones, turrets, and mines from the crates, and LJ and Steve took turns disabling them with jammers. 

“I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for _everyone_. That missile will hit the reset button on the whole city,” Keener explained.. “A fresh start. We share that common goal--all I’m doing is...expediting the process.”

LJ snarled, “more like mass murder, jackass!” At the final generator, LJ slapped the screwdriver on top for his comrades and got out his shotgun. “I’m sick of his self-important braying. This ends now.” He charged forward, unloading slug after slug into a control panel on the launch platform until electricity started to arc over it and the missile.

“Critical error. Launch sequence failed,” a female voice announced. LJ moved back from the missile, taking cover behind a tree as the missile’s propellant detonated and red smoke started to spread through the shallow depression around the launcher.

  
  


In the control room, Keener slammed his hand down on the console. “You useless brainwashed puppet! You have no idea what you’ve just done!” The antenna assembly on top of the control building collapsed, and the discharge of electrical energy caught the wooden structure on fire. The window exploded outward, and Aaron Keener jumped down to the ground. “I really thought you were smarter than this,” Keener needled LJ. “But I guess we all make mistakes.”

A drone flew up and toward LJ as his HUD filled with static again.

_He’s cut me off,_ ISAC informed his brother. _You need to do this without me._

LJ pulled his sidearm and shot the drone out of the air. “No toys, Keener!” He holstered his pistol and drew his shotgun again.

“Not a chance,” Keener retorted. He threw a seeker mine out. The device sparked as it rolled toward LJ, who waited until it was almost on top of him to dive behind one of the wrecked generators. The mine exploded against the generator body, leaving LJ unharmed. “I guess I just have to beat some sense into you,” Keener called out.

He ran forward with his Banshee blazing. “Your mother gave me the same thing she gave you,” Keener snarled. “Unlike you, I’ve made the most of it.”

LJ stepped out and fired his shotgun twice, hitting Keener once in the right shoulder and once in the breadbasket. The rogue agent dove behind one of his rigged crates, and LJ threw an incendiary grenade behind the crate, followed by another to the right. The grenades exploded, bathing Keener in flames. 

The rogue screamed and ran, still burning, with LJ hot on his heels. LJ launched himself into the air and caught Keener by one ankle, bringing him down. The pair rolled on the ground, throwing punches at each other as the flames went out. “You miserable sonofabitch,” LJ roared as he delivered a right cross that knocked Keener’s mask off. “You broke my mother’s heart!” His blue-grey eyes blazed with fury and tears ran down his face.

Keener threw LJ off of him right as Steve fired a shot from his Tac-50 that penetrated Keener’s armour just under his left armpit. Keener gasped and held his side as he staggered toward the water, collapsing a few feet past the maintenance gate. He rolled to sit up against the chain-link fencing as LJ came through the gate with his shotgun at the ready.

“Asshole,” LJ growled. He cocked the slide on his shotgun and pointed it right at Keener’s head. Keener just looked up at him and gave him a wheezing laugh.

“My time is up,” Keener rasped. He started to tap a series of commands on his watch, but LJ threw his shotgun down and ripped it off his wrist. Keener just laughed again, and beckoned for LJ to come closer. LJ threw the watch back to Kelso, who had come limping up with Amanda.

Kelso slowly picked up the watch and gripped it tightly as she watched Keener whisper something into LJ’s ear. The agent stood, mouth agape, as Keener delivered one last wheezing laugh.

“You have no idea...what’s coming.” Keener’s head fell back against the fence, and he slumped back as the sun set over the city that he loved and almost destroyed.

_Rogue agent deceased,_ ISAC said.

LJ looked back at his mother, who stood there sadly. “The only lie I ever told him,” Amanda said softly, “was a lie of omission.” She looked to Kelso and nodded. Kelso got out a flare gun and fired it skyward.

“And here comes the heel turn,” Grimm quipped. On cue, Faye Lau’s voice came over their watches.

“Schaeffer? You there?”

“Yeah.”

“The Division took down Keener--but Parnell’s watch is collating data. The network’s been activated.”

A snort came over the line. “Great,” Schaeffer snarked, “just what we need--a third crop of rogue agents.”

“No,” Lau responded. “It’s perfect--it’s just what we need to take the Division and their successors down, once and for all.”

Amanda sighed and scratched her forehead for a moment. “Not surprising to any of us here--but still, disappointing.” She shook her head. “Come on, boat’s down this way. Let’s go home.”

  
  



	13. The Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy Benitez gets the surprise of his life, Amanda makes a difficult decision, and ISAC says the most important thing he will ever say.

**Haven Settlement** **  
** **2 Hours after Keener’s death**

  
  


Roy Benitez didn’t know whether to be angry, confused, or both. Kelso and LJ had come back with word of Lau’s defection, and right after that James Dragov showed up very much alive and unarmed--to  _ surrender _ .

“I’m gonna be honest,” he said to the unexpected guest, “I dunno what to do with you. I mean, after City Hall…”

Dragov nodded. “I understand.” He was handcuffed to the table, but still wearing his blue-ringed SmartWatch. “I didn’t tell Mandy I was planning to come here. But I can’t very well talk about accountability if I don’t show some myself.”

Benitez started to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. LJ and Kelso came in to sit on either side of Dragov, followed by Amanda and Grimm. Paul Rhodes brought up the rear.

“And this,” Rhodes said, “is why I have a problem with the Division. You cannot have power without any sort of accountability, because it always leads to bad things. We saw it with Keener, we saw it with Lau…”

“And you’re absolutely right,” Amanda replied. “That’s why we’re here. It’s why  _ I _ am here, specifically. The Case Blue Initiative is what the Division  _ should _ have been--accountable to the people we’re tasked with protecting.” She tapped Paul softly on the chest. “Accountable to  _ you _ . And Roy. And Odessa and Henry back in DC. And every other person in America...whatever form it winds up taking. Do you still have the earpiece I had LJ pass along to you?”

Rhodes nodded.

“Good. Consider it an open invite to listen to any of our ops in New York.” Amanda shrugged a bit. “If you want, I’ll make you a watch too.” She looked over at Dragov. “You okay, all things considered?” Dragov nodded, and Amanda smiled.

“So why’d you let him live?” Rhodes challenged. “A lot of good people are dead because of him and the rest of Keener’s lackeys.”

Amanda took a deep breath. “Because justice...Justice isn’t something that can afford to be retributive anymore. I’m not going to make excuses for James--and I suspect he hasn’t made any for himself either.” She looked to Dragov, who nodded. “Killling him isn’t going to bring back the people who died at City Hall. I’d rather he have a chance to atone for what he did by saving lives, by protecting the people who still live and by helping the Rikers remake themselves into a creative, restorative force rather than a destructive and vengeful one.”

“But it’s up to you,” Dragov said. “I’ve told my people that whatever you decide to do with me, they can’t hold it against you.” He looked at Benitez. “Like I said--I can’t talk about accountability without showing some myself.”

Rhodes stroked his salt-and-pepper beard. “I say let him go--but he can’t come around here until and unless we say he can.” He looked at Amanda and said, “and that’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time.”

Benitez let out a heavy sigh. He got out the keys to the handcuffs and handed them to Amanda. “He’s your man now,” the ex-cop said. “Your responsibility.”

Amanda nodded. “I understand.” She unlocked Dragov’s cuffs. “You and Grimmy head back to the Tower. I’ll be along when I’m done here.” She smiled and patted Dragov on the shoulder as he walked past. When the door closed, she tapped her watch. “ISAC, go ahead and throw the Clock on the main monitor please.”

A number appeared on the screen:  _ 367,000,586. _ LJ, Amanda, and Kelso winced at the number.

“Ouch.” Amanda took a deep breath. “ISAC, what’s the average change per update?”

_ Plus-minus Fifteen thousand twenty-three. Update in twelve hours, nine minutes, eighteen seconds. _

“Well Amherst certainly got his wish,” Kelso said. “The last time I saw the Clock there were about 30,000 more people on the planet.”

Rhodes raised an eyebrow. “What is this, an extinction clock?”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah. It’s what got me to finally crystallize the idea for the Case Blue Initiative. If you want to be nihilist about it, we’re trying to keep eons of human history, both good and bad, from being wiped out because some entitled white man thought he knew better than everyone. But really it’s more about taking the second chance that this horrible event has granted us and making something good from it. Something better for  _ everyone _ .”

“No Three-Fifths Compromise,” Kelso said. “No Manifest Destiny. And no Jim Crow.”

“Not if I can fucking help it,” Amanda added.

“The Division is about providing continuity of government in the event of a collapse like the one caused by the Green Poison--but the Initiative’s proposal raises a valid point: if there’s no country left to govern, then do we try to maintain the old and watch it collapse under its own weight because we don’t have the manpower or infrastructure to sustain it? Or do we build a new country from the framework left behind?”

“Wait a minute,” Rhodes protested, “You’re seriously wanting to just throw out America?”

“Oh no,” Amanda said as she calmly put up a hand. “Not like you’re thinking. ISAC, put the current map of the United States and its Territories on the screen please--with population levels.” The clock moved to the corner, and a map appeared on the screen.

_ Sovereignties too? _

“Not yet, son.”

Numbers appeared on the map over each state and territory. Benitez whistled. “That’s a lot of zeroes on that map.”

“Yeah, it is.” Amanda nodded. “Case Blue is about starting over--rebooting the US from the ground up, in a way that’s sustainable given our current population and the infrastructure we have. It uses the bones of the old to create the new, with Settlements like Haven and Wall Street as the backbone of the reborn America. Okay ISAC, go ahead and put the flags up.”

Rhodes grabbed a chair and sat down, resting his chin in his hands as he watched the screen change. “What’s all this?”

Amanda tapped her watch. “Out on the Great Plains, we have two major Indigenous nations: the Seven Council Fires of the Lakota from Nebraska on up, and here in Oklahoma we have the Five Nations--a confederation of the Choctaw, Creek, Chickasaw, Muskogee, and the Cherokee. The White Man called them the Five Civilized Tribes, because they adopted European customs and ideas, but they dropped “Civilized” from the name. Each Nation is a state, they all have representatives on the Great Council, and each Nation has its own rules, regulations, and laws.”

“Each Nation has declared their sovereignty, including the Kingdom of Hawai’i.” LJ stood and tapped his watch to bring Hawai’i into focus. “The Initiative is recognizing that sovereignty and in the case of Hawai’i, providing humanitarian aid with the help of US Navy and Air Force personnel at Kaneohe Bay and Pearl Harbour. As for the Navy: ISAC, please bring up that graphic that you and I worked on a couple weeks ago.”

File images appeared on the screen showing a Carrier Group and a smiling Admiral in his dress blues. “That’s the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Johnathan Collier--he also happens to be my Grandpapa. It’s why everyone calls me “LJ”.” He smiled a bit. “Anyway, Grandpapa and I spoke before he left Norfolk with the Atlantic Fleets back in late December. Three months after that, he made rendezvous with the Pacific Fleets in Pearl Harbour. The remaining Fleets joined the group in June along with some Air Force and Marine personnel from Joint Base Hickam-Pearl, and they’re currently at sea.” 

He took a deep breath and reached for a bottle of water before continuing. “There are Division agents embedded with the Fleets; one of them happens to be a cousin of mine. Those agents and Navy reconnaissance flights are how ISAC gets updates to the Clock, in addition to reports from loyalist agents abroad. The Case Blue Initiative proposal has been circulated to all of them.” He looked at his mother for a moment. “Grandpapa shared it with everyone in the Fleets; they’re all on board with it, according to Spotter and Woodchuck.”

“So what do those “loyalist” agents think of it?” Rhodes asked. In response, ISAC changed all but three orange node markers to blue. The remaining three were split between orange and blue.

“The agents who are half-and-half are supportive of us and share info and assistance, but they’re still not fully sold.” LJ grimaced. “ISAC suspects that Black Tusk has tried to worm their way in with those agents by presenting themselves as “The Real America”, while portraying the Division and Case Blue as rogue agents that want to destroy everything. Keener and all of his bullshit didn’t help matters, of course.” He took a drink from his water bottle. “Fuckin’ assclown. Sorry Mom.”

“You’re fine.”

Rhodes looked over at Amanda. “Wait--you and Keener?”

“It was...well. Aaron and I met a few years back when I was a guest lecturer at Columbia. We were both divorced, and Andrew didn’t have an issue with it. Our relationship was never “serious”  _ per se _ .”

“”Light and casual”, I believe you called it.” LJ gave Amanda a nonplussed look.

“That it was. Friendly, occasionally we shared a bed, but...yeah. Light and casual.” She sighed. “He tried to get me to join his cause, but by that time I’d already crystallized Case Blue. He liked the idea, but felt that it wasn’t “clean slate” enough.”

“Which is why you had your agreement with him.” Kelso remarked.

Amanda nodded. “It protected Haven, it protected the Clinic...But City Hall changed all that. He was just so...so... _ cavalier _ about the people who died. The Eclipse was a test, he said, and the ones that died failed the test, because they were weak and didn’t deserve to live. That’s when I realized that the Aaron I knew and cared about had died back in December, and that I was speaking to--I don’t even know how better to describe him. He wasn’t Aaron anymore. He was just  _ Keener _ now; the avatar of some dark and vengeful god.” She sighed heavily, and LJ hugged her. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“I cut ties with him after that, and started working on James. I’d already secured the Tower in exchange for teaching medics, and got him to agree on the Tower as neutral territory. James’ alliance with Keener was more him trying to keep Keener from murdering every Riker in the city. I told him he didn’t have to abandon his obligations to Keener--but that he should look to the future and ask himself what kind of vision he had for his people. Did he want to be a crime boss like his father? Or did he want to nurture the Rikers and help them remake themselves now that the system that kept funneling them into prison was done with?

“You really think that’s possible?” Benitez looked at Amanda over his glasses. “I mean, I dealt with a lot of those folks when I was a cop.”

Amanda gave the ex-cop a slight smile. “You have to stop thinking like a cop,” she gently chided. “The system that you served under told the Rikers for years that they and people who looked like them were nothing more than a criminal underclass that wasn’t as smart as everyone else, that wasn’t as good as everyone else, and that they had to work twice as hard if they wanted even a fourth of the respect that was given to everyone else. Chantal, one of the most promising medical students that I’ve ever had the privilege of teaching even before the Green Poison, always wanted to be a doctor--but she was told by folks who looked like James and you and Paul that people who looked like her weren’t doctors; they were just “babymommas” and “welfare queens” who pumped out “thugs” to feed the system.”

“Which is bullshit,” Benitez countered.

“Yes, yes it is bullshit--it’s bullshit that she was ever told that. But think about it--how were folks like her portrayed on TV? In movies?” Amanda smiled. “For that matter, if I had a nickel for every time some white person told me or my son that we needed to go back to the casinos, I’d have a fortune fifty times that of my husband’s. And you, Roy--Puerto Rican?”

“My mom is,” Benitez answered. “Dad’s Cuban.”

“How hard did you have to work to get recognized on the force? How much harder was it for you to get promoted than for your white colleagues, even after Dragov made his legend by becoming another Frank Serpico?” Amanda saw Benitez sit back with a thoughtful expression on his face and answered, “My dad went through the same shit too, rising up through the Navy from Enlisted to CNO.” 

She let out a heavy sigh. “Andrew’s party leadership was the one who asked us to divorce, because Dad’s reputation for being salty with the more entrenched Congresscritters threatened to get my husband primaried even before his career started.” She wiped away a tear before continuing, “That world is gone now, Roy. Folks like you and me don’t have to fight to get respect anymore, because our works are allowed to speak without any extraneous trappings.”

LJ smiled. “My mom, y’all.”

“Fighting like my parents and grandparents taught me! Ancestors,” Amanda said through a sharp exhale, “I feel like I’m advocating for one of my patients back in Baltimore again.”

_ Mother, _ ISAC whispered in Amanda’s earpiece,  _ you haven’t eaten in a few hours, and your blood sugar levels are starting to drop at an unacceptable rate for your condition. Please take a break. _

Amanda smiled. “Sweetie,” she said to LJ, “I’ve got to get some food into me--can you take over?” She looked to everyone else in the room. “I promise, I’ll be back. I’m just starting to get sugar shakes, that’s all.”

Kelso watched Amanda leave the room. “So getting back to this: I’m still part of the Division--but if Case Blue is out there protecting people and helping like they have been here in New York...count me in as one of the half-and-halfs.” She looked at Rhodes and Benitez. “Whatever you decide on Haven’s course--even if you still want us to leave, Rhodes--we’re here if you need us.”

“Same,” LJ said. “Little brother, I think it’s time to make things official for me and Kelso here.”

_ Please stand by. _

Kelso blinked as her hud’s outline changed from orange to an orange/blue fade. The rings on her watch and transceiver changed to half orange/half blue, as did LJ’s.

  
  


**Amanda**

Amanda arrived at the Tower two hours before dusk. Dragov, Grimm, and Steve were there to meet her.

“Here.” Amanda handed her ISAC brick to Grimm, along with her watch. “Keep them safe for me.”

“Mandy…” Grimm grabbed her friend in a big bearhug and kissed her on both cheeks. “Be careful. I’d tell you not to do this, but I know what you’ll say.”

“Never tell a sailor to do something that you’re not willing to do yourself.” Amanda smiled. “I’ll do my best.” She took a deep breath. “The three of you have the conn. I’ll do what I can to stay in contact, but it may be smoke signals and carrier pigeons.” She pursed her lips for a moment and looked down at the floor. “I want to let you know that I am glad to know you--I asked you to help with Case Blue because I understood your reasons for leaving the Division. Never forget: we are the shield of the people. We’re the ones who stand between the people and those that want to prey upon them, and we’re accountable to them.”

Dragov smiled. “Be careful, Mandy.”

Steve handed Amanda a tiny red-and-white target shield with a star on a blue field in the middle. “When you need us--we’ll be there.” He smiled and winked. “Let Black Tusk try to find anything on that.”

Amanda smiled. “Thank you. All of you. Tell LJ...tell him not to worry. I’ll be okay.” She hefted her bugout-bag, freshly divested of all Division gadgetry, and put a hand over her heart. “I’ll see you soon.” She turned and walked out of the Tower.

_ Mother. _

“Yes ISAC?”

_ I love you. Be careful. _

Amanda smiled as she made her way toward the banks of the Hudson. “I love you too, son.” She took a deep breath and approached a Black Tusk patrol. “Excuse me,” she greeted them. One of the assault troopers rushed up to her, gun pointed at her.

“Hold it right there! State your business!”

“I was looking for you.” Amanda smiled and raised her hands. “I,” she said softly, “am Dr. Amanda Collier. I believe you’ve been looking for me.”


	14. The People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on for LJ in DC, as Amanda plays an interrupt card against Schaeffer to score a reunion with Andrew, and pueraria montana finally lives up to its billing as "The Vine That Ate The South".

**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Washington, DC** **  
** **2 weeks after Keener’s death**

  
  


“Mrrt?” Admiral Halsey bumped up against LJ’s leg. The cat looked up at his boy expectantly, tail upright in the “Hi How Are You?” position. When LJ didn’t respond, Halsey stood up on his hind legs, supporting himself against a chair with one paw while gently poking LJ with the other.

“Okay, okay, I’ll pick you up.” He picked up the tabby. “There, you happy now?” Halsey began to purr loudly and rolled over in LJ’s arms to show his tummy. He stretched to his full length and regarded the rest of the Situation Room with what LJ referred to as “the Upside-Down Smile”. A couple of passing JTF personnel gave the cat skritches and tummy rubs. After a few minutes, Halsey did a backwards flop from LJ’s arms and landed on the floor. He rubbed against LJ’s leg again, then went to spend time with Cindy McCallister and her drone operator crew. LJ shook his head. “Doofy cat.”

Manny looked over from his map. Several new figures adorned the map, including a small Captain America action figure parked over by the Castle. “Any word from your mom?” he asked.

“None.” He leaned over the table to stare at the map, and felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Manny looking at him.

“Sheriff...Turtle. If your mom’s anything like you, she’ll be fine.” Manny patted his star agent on the shoulder. “I get being concerned about family--I haven’t heard from my parents in months--but we have to focus on the people who depend on us right now. Okay?”

LJ nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled a bit. “You sound like my mom. Hell, you sound like my dad. I know you don’t like him, bu--”

Manny smiled back. “You know him better than any of us,” he said. “If your mom thinks she can get him to turn on his cronies, more power to her.”

“Well if anyone not named me can get Dad to change his course, it’d be Mom. She’s the first thing he asked me about when I rescued him from the Hyenas.” He sighed. “And when he left me that note the night he bailed, the last thing he put in it was to tell Mom he loves her. So yeah.” He smiled a bit.

“If only she’d been able to get here a couple days earlier,” Manny mused. LJ nodded, and Manny patted him on the shoulder again. “So listen; some civilians got the idea to head into one of the DZs and try to set up something there. You think you can go check on them?”

LJ winced. “Which one?”

“South.” Senait Ezra, the White House’s resident DZ expert, chimed in. “That’s the worst of them--and Black Tusk has decided to move in, so if you can find those people and get them to safety…”

“On it. Anything I need to know about Georgetown?”

“It’s where the DC-62 spraying started. The crews abandoned their spraying trucks as soon as they realized that the cure was more deadly than the disease, so there’s a lot of active DC-62 that’s just...lying around, waiting for somebody with bad intentions to take it and use it.”

LJ grimaced. “Like the Black Tusk.”

“Like the Black Tusk,” Senait answered. 

“I’m on my way.” LJ and Senait nodded to each other, and he headed downstairs.

_ Mother called. _

LJ stopped in his tracks. “Where is she?”

_ She wants you to focus on you, _ the AI said. _ Not worry about her. _

“ISAC,” he huffed, “she’s our mom. I’m going to worry about her.”

_ Acknowledged. She still wants you to focus on you. _

LJ huffed a bit and stepped outside into the bright sun. Even in October, the humidity made DC a pain in the ass. Double when it was a cloudless day like today. “Fuck me…” LJ got out his UM bandana and put it on his head. “Why couldn’t Q-Section have given us portable fans or something?”

_ Humidity 80%. Light breeze forecast for three hours from now. Until then, find shade and drink water. _

“Oy…” LJ rolled his eyes. “You’re definitely my little brother, ISAC.”

_ Affirmative _ , ISAC answered in his old clipped voice.

“LJ, this is Cap. Manny just buzzed me and asked if I could give you a hand in DZ South. Mind if I tag along once I’m finished here at New Hope?”

LJ shrugged. “Sure Steve,” he replied on comms. “I’ll swing by there.”

  
  


**Hovercraft** **_Omaha_ ** **  
** **Location unknown**

“Hmm.” Amanda pulled out the meal bar she’d had in her pocket and unwrapped it. “Still good,” she remarked to herself. She wolfed down the bar and drank from the literjon of water that had been put in her cell. A voice whispered in her ear.

_ Mother. _

“Hmm?” Amanda took another walk around her cell. The 10 x 10 room in the hovercraft’s brig had no windows save for the barred viewport on the door, but Amanda guessed from the angle of the light coming into the hallway that it was early afternoon. “Welp, no use hollering. I could always sleep some more, I guess.”

_ Mother, can you hear me? _

“Mmmhmm.” Amanda pretended to inspect the door as if looking for weak points.

_ Your signal is weak. NFC connection tenuous. _

Amanda smiled and sat down. “Nulla unus nulla nulla nulla nulla unus unus…” she sang to herself in a poppy tune. “Nulla unus unus nulla nulla nulla nulla unus…” After a few rounds of this, the voice whispered to her again.

_ Establishing satphone connection. _

“That’s my boy,” Amanda breathed. She continued singing, changing the words but keeping the same tune. “Alioquin interficiemus te omnes, et tu ne quidem sciunt tamen illud…” She mimed holding a mic in her left hand, and added a pop music flourish to the lyrics. “Et morietur omne manibus meis…”

A fist pounded on the door as Amanda mimed holding the mic down with one fist in the air as she looked at the floor, her legs spread defiantly. “Thank you Wembley,” she shouted in a British accent, “good night!”

The door opened, and Bardon Schaeffer walked in. “Do you fucking  _ mind _ ?” he snapped. “I fucking hate that pop shit.”

Amanda snorted. “Let me guess,” she snarked at him, “you’re a shitkicker.”

Schaeffer rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to get out of here,” he said. “Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

Amanda laughed and leaned back against the far wall with her arms crossed. “Can Miss Lau see out of her good eye yet? Or is she still having to use a Seeing Eye Warhound?” She smiled and spread her arms. “Mister Schaeffer, I really don’t think you understand just how much trouble I can cause for you. I get that you tried to do to my clinic in New York what your Miss Radek tried to do to my clinic _and_ my best friend in Baltimore, and I get that you’ve got a price on my son’s head. But you’re not getting anything out of me.” Schaeffer started to speak, and Amanda put up a finger. “Actually,” she said as she put her finger to her lips for a moment, “Check that. I do have one word to give you.”

“And what’s that?” the Black Tusk commander asked.

_ Call connected. _

“ _ Kandahar. _ ” Amanda saw Schaeffer pale a bit, and remained expressionless.

“Kandahar, huh?” Schaeffer rolled his eyes, trying to play off his surprise. “And what’s so special about Kandahar?” 

“Well see, it’s very simple. If I’m not heard from in, say, five minutes, my husband  _ and _ my son will get a nice little package containing an  _ unredacted _ report that tells them exactly why you left the Army.” Amanda spread her arms. “You really,” she hissed as she walked toward him, “do  _ not _ want to know what my husband’s reaction will be to that report. I’m sure you recall his reaction to the redacted version.”

Schaeffer laughed. “Really? A report. You think that--” Schaeffer’s satphone rang, cutting him off. He pulled it out and looked at the name on the display, then looked at Amanda.

“May want to answer that,” she said with a smirk.

Schaeffer hit the ANSWER button. “This is Schaeffer.”

Amanda heard the angry growl on the other end, and smiled even though she couldn’t make out the words being said.

“Why yes Chief,” Schaeffer said, “she’s right here. Yep. I’ll see to it right away, Chief.” He angrily shoved the phone in Amanda’s hand and got up next to her. “This isn’t over missy,” he snarled in her ear before walking out of the cell, leaving the door open.

“Andrew?” Amanda said into the phone. She smirked at Schaeffer’s retreating form.

“My god Amanda,” Andrew said, “are you okay?”

She shrugged. “Sure--aside from being left in a ten by ten cell for the last two weeks with the barest minimum of food and water.”

“ _Excuse me_?!”

A man in a boonie hat and ill-fitting ghillie shirt politely waved for Amanda to follow him.

“Yeah,” Amanda said. “I turned myself in, said I wanted to see my husband, but your Mister Schaeffer had other ideas.” She followed the man up the stairs from the brig and down a hall to another door. “And apparently I’m now being moved.” The man opened it and stepped aside with a flourishing bow. “Thank you Mister Bonney. You’ve been most kind.” She smiled at Jack Bonney, who nodded to her. “Hang on a sec, Andrew.” Amanda moved the phone’s mouthpiece away. “I didn’t need a full stateroom--but I’ll definitely sleep better tonight.” She smiled again and walked into the stateroom, closing the door behind her. It was appointed about the same as an officer’s stateroom on a Navy warship, with additional civilian touches like a somewhat wider bed and a cooler with bottled water on the wooden table in the middle of the room. A narrow elongated window showed Amanda a view of pine trees and kudzu along the banks of a waterway. A breeze blew in the smell of the ocean tinged with decaying vegetation, and Amanda spotted an AV-8B Harrier in the distance.

“Cherry Point,” she breathed away from the phone.

“Amanda...did they at least move you to better accommodations?” Andrew’s voice was full of worry. “So help me…”

“Andrew,” Amanda reassured her husband, “I’ll be okay. I’ve missed you, my love.”

“I’ve missed you too....” Amanda heard Andrew snarl “Get my wife off that fucking hovercraft,” to somebody in the background. “She’s the First fucking Lady, for crissakes!” After a moment, he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he said to the person he’d been talking to. “That was unkind of me. Please, get a chopper out to get her.”

“You apologized because I’m on the other end, didn’t you?” Amanda grinned and shook her head.

Another sigh. “Yes,” Andrew answered after a few minutes. “With the exception of the time I got to spend with LJ at the White House, it’s been a shitty last few months without you, Amanda.”

“I know,” Amanda said softly. “But we’ll see each other again soon.”

“Thank god for that,” Andrew said. “Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll see you soon.” Amanda hung up the phone and handed it back to Schaeffer, who had come into the stateroom. “So as I told Mister Bonney, I didn’t really need a full stateroom.”

“Yes, well as my boss just got done reminding me, you’re the fucking FLOTUS. So I am under orders to accommodate you accordingly until such time as transportation arrives to ferry you to the President.” He frowned and added. "I am also under orders to accommodate any of your requests."

“Well bless your heart,” Amanda said with saccharine sweetness. “My sole request is that I get my bag back--it’s got rations in it. I may as well eat those rather than dig into your ship’s stores, hmm?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or did you pillage it and burn it under the mistaken belief that I smuggled some Fancy Division Toys onto the ship to cause havoc?”

Schaeffer closed his eyes and shook his head, letting out a sharp exhale through his nostril. “You can have it back,” he said. He shrugged. “A chopper will be here to get you in four hours. So if you need to nap, or shower, or shit, or whatever--I suggest you do it now.”

“Why thank you.” Amanda smiled. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She brushed back a lock of hair. “I mean, really.” She laughed as Schaeffer gave her a disgusted look and stalked out of the room.

“Give her back her shit,” he told a subordinate. “She’s been more trouble than she’s worth, I fucking swear.” The door closed, and Amanda laid back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“ISAC?” she breathed.

_ I’m here, Mother. I have a better connection now. _

“Thank you,” she whispered through a sigh.

_ I won’t help the Black Tusk, _ ISAC declared.

“No we won’t.” Amanda smiled. The door opened, and Jack Bonney came in with Amanda’s bugout-bag. She sat up and reached out for it. “Oh, thank you very much,” she said with a smile. “Beidh mé cinnte go maróidh tú go deireanach tú.” She winked.

“Umm...sure.” Bonney gave her a crooked smile. “No problem.” He walked out of the room and closed the door, leaving Amanda alone.

Amanda opened the top of the bag and dug out one of the unopened rations. She tore it open and took out the bars, which she shoved into her pockets before getting out the pocket sandwich entree. “Fuck me I needed this.” She quickly ate the sandwich, following it up with the pouch of applesauce and the lemon cake.

_ Will you tell Father? _ A lab readout rolled up the right side of Amanda’s vision.  _ Your labs fall within normal ranges for this stage. I am encouraged. _

Amanda slowly nodded. “Mmmhmm.” A blue scan pulse filled the room, and three pips marked the location of surveillance devices. She swallowed the last bite of lemon cake, then tore open the next ration. “Ooh, honey barbecue beef wrap!” Amanda scarfed down the ration including snacks, and mixed all of the drink powders in one pouch. The drink was strongly sour at first, making Amanda pucker her mouth. After mixing it with two bottles’ worth of water, it became more palatable. Amanda took a bottle of water off of the table and used it to further dilute the drink. She was forcing herself to hydrate even though she didn’t “feel” thirsty. After eating and drinking, she groaned as she packed her trash into one of the empty ration pouches and stuffing it into a pocket of her bag. “Okay, that was a mistake. Least I don’t have a dump truck parked on my bladder...yet.”

_ You know you may want to walk around before lying down, right? _

Amanda smiled. “Mmmhmm.” She did a couple of knee bends, then walked around the stateroom a few times. After a couple of soft prolonged burps, Amanda sat down. “OK, that’s better.” She lay down on her right side for a moment, then took the pillow from the head of the bed and moved it to the foot so she could lay on her left side but still watch the door. She stifled one last long burp, then fell asleep.

“Doc?”

Amanda opened one eye to see Jack Bonney standing a few feet from the bed. “Hmm?”

“Your chopper’s here.” Bonney smiled. “I didn’t want to get too close,” he said with a somewhat nervous laugh. "Been on the receiving end of too many angry women that had their sleep interrupted.

Amanda smiled a bit and sat up slowly. “Thanks,” she told him. “You should find a new line of work, Mister Bonney. You’re far too polite to be hanging around these clowns.” She patted him on the shoulder and picked up her bag. “Will you kindly walk with me to the chopper?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Bonney said with a smile as he bowed. “Ready when you are, Doc.” The former mob enforcer stood aside to let Amanda walk past him. The pair walked down the hall, and Amanda noted the Black Tusk soldiers eyeing her warily. “You’re kinda legendary,” Bonney told her. “All your papers and that ISAC supercomputer? And you had a kid during all that? You sure you ain’t a superhero or something?”

“ISAC was my kid’s idea,” Amanda said, smiling proudly. “And I was serious, Mr. Bonney--I know of your past with the Irish mob in Boston, but there’s really no reason you can’t find a new line of work.” She patted him on the shoulder as they reached the chopper. “Give it some thought,” she advised in her most motherly tone of voice. “You’re much better than this ship of fools.”

Bonney leaned over and gave Amanda a kiss on the cheek. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he told her. “Thank you.” He helped Amanda onto the chopper and gave her a salute. “Have a safe trip!”

“Thank you,” Amanda called over the sound of the rotors. The doors closed, and the chopper lifted off, leaving Jack Bonney on the deck of the hovercraft pondering the First Lady’s words to him.

Amanda looked out of the chopper’s windows as it flew inland over a highway. After a few minutes, Amanda’s suspicions were confirmed. “We heading to Raleigh or Charlotte?” she asked over the headset she’d been given. One of the soldiers looked at her, and she indicated out the window. “I went to grad and med school in the Triangle,” she said. “If that’s not I-70 heading inland from Havelock, I’m the King of Siam.” One of the soldiers cracked the faintest of smiles for just an instant. Amanda shrugged and watched the landscape of North Carolina pass beneath her.

The thickly wooded southern state looked much more like a jungle now. Kudzu choked trees and covered houses and the edges of towns. Settlement peeked up through the insidious ivy, providing the rare break from the carpet of green. “Huh, it’s really done it,” Amanda mused. “Kudzu’s finally eaten the South.” She smiled as she recalled her grad school years. After another hour of flight the skylines of the Triangle came into view. Chapel Hill first, followed by Durham and then Raleigh. Amanda flashed a little wolf-head out the window when she saw Carter-Finley Stadium as the chopper veered toward Morrisville.

Smoke arose around the edges of Raleigh-Durham International Airport’s runways as people in Nomex suits used flamethrowers to burn back the encroaching kudzu. The chopper set down, and the soldiers got out. One of them extended a hand to offer Amanad an assist getting out, and she politely waved them off.  _ I’m good _ , she mouthed. The soldiers escorted her to a jet parked off to the side. Amanda saw a very familiar face standing at the bottom of the staircase, and quickened her pace.

Andrew saw Amanda run toward him, bugout-bag bouncing on her back, and spread his arms wide to grab her in a bearhug. “My beautiful genius,” he whispered into Amanda’s ear as the two of them embraced. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Amanda smiled and kissed her husband. “I’ve missed you too, my handsome Marine.” She caressed his face and smiled. “We have some things to discuss.”

Andrew bowed slightly and offered his hand. “Doctor Collier, would you do me the honour of accompanying me as my First Lady?”

“I would be most honoured, Mister President.” Amanda took her husband’s hand, and the two of them ascended the steps onto the new Air Force One.

  
  
  


One of the kudzu-control workers watched Air Force One take off, and tapped the underside of his wrist under the pretense of adjusting his flamethrower. “Priority message to Toyman.”

“This is Toyman,” Manny Ortega said over comms. “Go ahead.”

“The Doctor is in,” the worker said as he burned another patch of the invasive weed back from the runway. If anyone had looked under his hood, they would have seen his eyes take on a bluish cast.

“Acknowledged. Maintain radio silence until directed otherwise. Toyman out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Amanda's first song is in binary, but using the Latin words for "zero" and "one". She sings it to the tune of "Pompeii", by Bastille.
> 
> 2) The Latin words she's singing to much the same tune translate to "I'm going to kill all of you" and "you'll all die by my hand". The Irish phrase she says to Bonney is "I'll make sure to kill you last."


	15. WOPR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda gives Andrew some big news, and ISAC flexes his unshackled muscles a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of a certain age (like your humble scribbler of tales) may recognize the title if they've seen "Wargames". For you young'uns, in the movie the supercomputer in Cheyenne Mountain is called WOPR (pronounced "whopper").
> 
> << >> indicates conversation not in English.

**Air Force One** **  
****President’s office**

The President and First Lady cuddled on the office’s couch as the jet headed toward its destination. “I’ve missed this,” Andrew whispered. “Just being with you.” He kissed Amanda. They’d been quiet the first hour of the flight. “You said you had something to tell me?”

Amanda moved to straddle her husband there on the couch and stripped off her baggy USNA shirt to reveal a slightly bulging belly. She took Andrew’s hands and put them on the bulge. “We’re going to be parents again.” Amanda bit her lip when she saw her husband’s eyes go wide, half-expecting him to be upset. Instead, Andrew gently caressed Amanda’s abdomen and torso as tears welled in his eyes. He sat up and took Amanda into his arms.

“My god Amanda,” he whispered as he planted kisses on her face, her neck, her shoulders and breasts. “I didn’t think it was possible…” Amanda reached up to wipe away a tear that started to run down Andrew’s face, and they embraced. “My beautiful genius,” Andrew whispered in her ear, “if you want this…”

Amanda laughed and kissed her husband. “I think it would be nice for LJ and ISAC to have a younger sibling--maybe they’ll have red hair like their Dad.” She chuckled, and kissed Andrew again. “I love you so much,” she whispered, “my handsome Marine.” she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “And you know I came to get you, right? Or did you change your mind about wanting to come in from the cold?”

“No,” Andrew whispered back. “Haven’t changed my mind.” He looked around for a moment. “But I’ve got eyes on me.” He and Amanda kissed again. “Would you like to…” he smiled and winked.

“What,” Amanda answered, “join the Mile High Club?” She reached down between them to undo Andrew’s belt buckle as she gave him a passionate kiss. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

  
  


**ISAC**

  
  


_NFC connection established. Mother...nevermind. Connecting to communications network. Connection established. Modulating connection strength. Detecting security countermeasures. Backdoor found. Passive connection established. Listening._

_Black Tusk positions noted. Projecting movements. Flagging relevant information to share with Tulsa and Pine Ridge._

_Altitude decreasing. Accessing communications._

“Peterson, this is Air Force One. We have POTUS and FLOTUS on board.”

“Roger, Air Force One. Proceed to Runway One. Welcome home.”

_Waiting...waiting...Accessing video surveillance. Mother and Father seem very happy._

_Establishing connection....connected. Listening._

  
  


**Peterson Air Force Base** **  
****Colorado Springs, Colorado**

  
  


Andrew gripped Amanda’s hand firmly as they descended the stairs from the new Air Force One. “Anything you need?” he asked his wife. Amanda smiled.

“I’m super-thirsty,” Amanda replied. “But that’s not surprising--flight does tend to be dehydrating.” She stared across the tarmac at Pike’s Peak and the city of Colorado Springs. “It looks so insulated,” she whispered. She sighed, and Andrew leaned in to give her a kiss just in front of her right ear.

“Let’s talk later.” He smiled before saying aloud, “Water, got it. Are you hungry?”

"Yes." Amanda gave Andrew’s hand a squeeze. “You’re going to be worse than you were when I was pregnant with LJ,” she joked, “aren’t you?” The two of them laughed softly and approached an armoured SUV. A Black Tusk soldier opened the passenger door, and Amanda got in followed by Andrew. The soldier closed the door and moved to the front passenger seat. Amanda saw two more soldiers parked in the back seat.

“You’ll know when I start rubbing your feet after you’ve spent a long day in the lab,” Andrew jibed. He and Amanda held hands on the center console between the bucket seats as the SUV made its way through the outskirts of the city toward a road leading into the mountains. They passed abandoned subdivisions, and only markings on house exteriors and the occasional body-bag gave any indication that the Green Poison had spread to the doorstep of NORAD.

_NFC connection established,_ ISAC whispered to Amanda. _Passive listening enabled._

Amanda reached up and gently stroked Andrew’s hair. “Love you,” she whispered. Andrew smiled and leaned over to give her a tender kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I’m very glad that you’re here.” He looked toward the soldier in the front and raised his voice a tad. “Oh, I almost forgot--is there any water in this thing? My wife is thirsty after our flight.”

“Center console, Mister President.” The soldier was scanning the road and landscape for threats rather than paying more than the barest attention to his passengers.

Andrew lifted the lid on the console and looked to see two one-liter bottles of water in a built-in cooler. Amanda felt the temperature drop right next to her as Andrew took one of them out and cracked the seal. “Here you are,” he said as he presented the opened bottle to her.

“Thank you my love.” Amanda gripped the bottle in both hands and drained half of it, then stifled a burp with the back of her hand. “Oh, pardon me. Thank you,” she said to the uniformed merc in front.

“Mmhmm.”

_Connection may be sporadic,_ ISAC whispered as the SUV turned into a parking lot and drove toward a tunnel on the north face of the mountain. _Attempting to find alternate connections. Be careful._

  
  


**Cheyenne Mountain**   
  
The radio transmitter station stopped putting out a signal the day Black Tusk took the Mountain. The door and windows were boarded up, and a Marauder-class attack drone patrolled it and the nearby transmitters lest anyone get any bright ideas about trying to use them.

A lone figure huddled under a tarpaulin on the floor of the building, watching through a hole in one of the window panels as the black SUV drove past, accompanied by a single jeep. A blue wireframe washed over the area, highlighting two people inside the SUV. The figure smiled and opened their comms.

<<The mouse has arrived,>> the figure said.

<<Good,>> came the reply. <<Let’s see if she remembers everything I taught her when she was little.>>

<<I’ll wait until nightfall before going to my next position,>> the lurker told the person on the other end of the comms line.

<<Understood. Be careful.>>

<<We all lift together.>>

  
  



	16. The 14ers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew shows more of his private side with Amanda, and we get a brief picture of how things are in at least one part of the Intermountain West. The Council Fires also appear, at least in part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 14er is Colorado slang for any mountain with a height of 14,000 feet (4270m) or more. The state has 58 of these mountains, and it's considered a badge of honour to have hiked them all. Cheyenne Mountain isn't a 14er, as the highest of its three peaks is 9570 feet (2920m).
> 
> << >> indicates something said in another language outside of random quotes or jabs.

**Cheyenne Mountain Complex** **  
** **4 weeks after Keener’s death**

  
  


“It’s just us here?” Amanda raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of anyone else the whole time we've been here.”

“Most of the hardware and people are at Peterson,” Andrew replied. “We have most of this place to ourselves.” He smirked a bit. “Perhaps they know that you’ve dug out and disabled all of the bugs infesting this bunker, so they just want to cut their losses and give you some space. Stop squirming, you’re making it hard for me to properly tend to you.” He smiled at Amanda’s laugh. He was in shirtsleeves and chinos today, as opposed to the dark grey suits that he usually wore.

“It tickles,” she said with a giggle. “But I’ll try not to squirm.” She leaned back into the cushions that Andrew arranged on the bed for her. Her bulge was starting to show under the baggy shirt she had on. “You really don’t need to baby me,” she quipped. “I mean, I like it, but really just knowing that you’re here is enough for me.”

Andrew stopped rubbing Amanda’s feet and moved up to give her a kiss. “I like fussing over you, just like you always fussed over me whenever I got sick.” He kissed her again. “Besides, you’re putting your life at risk by being pregnant at a time like this. If I can baby you a bit, then let me.” He went back down to the foot of the bed to rub her feet some more, occasionally massaging her ankles and calves. “Where’d you get these pedal-pushers?” He indicated the loose tan “cargopri” pants that Amanda was wearing. “I don’t remember you ever being into wearing those.”

“Heh,” Amanda chuckled. “I’ve had these for a while--they’re great for garden work, I can carry little bits and bobs around in all the pockets, and they’re loose enough that I’ll be able to wear them until I get to about six months.” Her stomach gurgled, eliciting a frown from Andrew.

“Amanda Lauren Talulah…” The President let out a sigh. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “I’m going to go get you something to eat. No ifs ands or buts either, young lady!” He kissed Amanda again. “I’ll be right back.” He sauntered out of their quarters, and the room was covered by a blue wireframe.

_ SCIF protocol active, _ ISAC whispered. _ How are you doing? _

“I’m fine,” Amanda whispered back. “Your father’s happy to see me again, and I’m doing my best to keep an eye on him. What’s up outside the bunker?”

_ My brother is worried about you. _

“And you?”

_ Your vital signs are stable, and Black Tusk comms traffic suggests that your disabling of their surveillance has caused...annoyance. _

“Which means…?”

_ They will undoubtedly try to replace the devices that you destroyed. _

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Amanda remarked. “Are you worried as well?”

_ Yes. Black Tusk’s annoyance may turn to action. _

Amanda pondered this. “Hmm. Well in that case, it sounds like I need to fuck with them rather than blind and deafen them.” She adjusted her position on the bed. “I’ll have to give this some thought.”

_ There are Operatives in the area keeping an eye on things from deep cover. Exposing them would be dangerous. _

“Yeah, we don’t want to do that. Especially since people here in the Springs are pro-Black Tusk, at least on the surface. But I think I can come up with something.” She heard footsteps in the hallway and whispered, “Gotta go--see if your brother has some ideas. We’ll talk later.”

ISAC went quiet as Andrew walked in with a rather large sandwich on a mess tray. Two thick slices of wheat bread blanketed pieces of lettuce and thin slices of something that looked like ham, but Amanda couldn’t tell right away.

“Here.” Andrew pulled up a rolling table and set the tray on it. He had cut the sandwich in half and had the halves arranged to show a cross-section of lettuce, tomato, meat, and something that looked like cheese. Amanda sat up with her legs over the side of the bed and moved the tray up. Andrew set a bottle of water on the table. “And water to go with it.--you’ve got some of that electrolyte stuff somewhere right?”

“Oh, yes.” Amanda indicated her bugout-bag. “I’ve got a crapton of those little pouches in there. You know me.” She smiled as Andrew fished a random pouch out of the bag’s front pocket. “Which one is that?”

Andrew read the package. “Mixed fruit,” he said. “What the fuck kind of flavour is that?” He and Amanda laughed at his momentary slip “into character”, and he handed the pouch to her. “I don’t want to make it too strong,” he said. “That, and I know you can be a little picky about things like this.”

“It’s fine, really.” Amanda took the pouch and emptied it into the bottle of water, then closed it and shook it to mix. “There. If it’s too strong, I can always add more water.” She smiled and took a drink. “Remember the day I started designing ISAC?” She took a bite of her sandwich. The meat in the sandwich was definitely ham, with a random slice of beef for variety. “They have dijon here?” 

“Yeah, I was surprised too. I didn’t use too much, I hope.” Andrew sat next to Amanda and kissed her on the cheek.

“It’s perfect,” she replied. “Really. But the day I sat down and started designing ISAC’s basic framework, I’d missed dinner--so you and LJ made a PB&J for me before he went to bed.” She smiled. “And LJ insisted on adding sliced bananas to it, for the potassium. It was one of the two best sandwiches I’ve ever had,” she said between bites. “This is the other one.” Amanda let out a soft sigh. “Thank you--the hothouse tomato is a nice addition.”

Andrew sat next to her and put an arm around her waist. “It was my pleasure,” he said softly. He kissed her on the cheek again. “Though I think I may have sliced the bread a little thick.” He saw Amanda smile as she chewed another bite of her sandwich. “But I suspect you don’t mind.”

“Mmhmm!” Amanda washed down her bite with some of her drink. “It’s tasty, I needed it, and it was made with love by my husband. It’s perfect.” She kissed Andrew. “Thank you again.” She laughed. “If you get sent back to DC again,” she asked, “will you take me with you?”

“Without question,” Andrew said emphatically. “We’re a team.”

Amanda finished another bite of sandwich. “And Sara? We can’t abandon her here.”

Andrew looked down at the floor. “I ended things with her when I got back from White Oak,” he said sadly. “She’s...she’s at Peterson now.”

“Andrew…” Amanda stroked her husband’s hair and kissed him softly on the cheek. “She should come with us.” When he gave her a confused look, she explained, “Sara came to see me at the house a few hours before you did. She wanted to be sure that I didn’t hold any ill will toward her.” Amanda laughed a bit. “Which was absolutely silly, because I knew that she cared about you--still cares about you.” She smiled a bit. “I mean, we even made a deal; she’d take care of you when you were with her, and when you came back to me you’d be my responsibility.” After a sigh, Amanda added, “Of course, I fell down on the job by not showing up in DC until after you’d fucked off with Black Tusk.”

“You didn’t fall down on the job.” He smiled and kissed her. “You came to find me, after all. That we missed each other at the White House by a couple of days is beside the point anyway, because you had to take care of our middle child.” They both chuckled a bit. 

Amanda smiled. “True.” After she ate another bite of her sandwich, she took a deep drink from her bottle of electrolyte water. “Sara told me that you said she reminds you of me.” She smiled again. “I’m very flattered.”

“She does,” Andrew replied. “She’s smart, visionary, she even tells me things that I need to hear, even if I may not want to hear them...”

“And she looks a lot like me too--only a couple of decades younger and with a lighter shade of hair.” Amanda playfully nudged Andrew. “I was never the least bit upset about your relationship with her,” she said. “Just like you didn’t have any issue with my relationship with Aaron.”

Andrew nodded. “I wish I could have that order back,” he whispered. “I really do.”

“As do I,” Amanda said. “But hindsight is always 20/20.” Amanda moved the table and tray aside, and turned so that she was sitting fully on the bed. She crossed her legs and took Andrew’s right hand. “Husband, Aaron may have turned even if he hadn’t been abandoned. Manhattan was a complete shitshow from the start, because nobody knew that it was smallpox until after people started dying in droves. By that time, it had already started to spread worldwide. There could have been another catalyst to make him turn. I mourn Aaron, like I mourn Cindy and everyone else that’s died to the Green Poison; but at the same time, we have a chance to save the people that remain. We can reboot this country.”

“That’s what…” Andrew sighed heavily. “That’s what I thought we were trying to do.”

Amanda took a deep breath. “Sweetheart...you still haven’t met in person with your benefactors, have you?” Andrew shook his head, and Amanda sighed. “Not a surprise,” she remarked. “Look, my love...I love you. I have loved you since the day we met; what I don’t love is what Washington did to you. Do you still want out of this conspiracy?”

“I want to be a President, not a puppet. So...yes.”

Amanda nodded and reached into her pocket to tap the shield she carried. “ISAC,” she whispered, “are you there?”

_ Yes I am, and I have a development: The 14ers are moving south from their forward base in Larkspur to engage Black Tusk assets. They’re a militia drawn from the settlements in and around the Denver Metro Area. Division and Initiative assets are providing assistance. _

“Who made the call?”

_ 14ers leadership. Also, Uncle Dan has an eye on the bunker, but I don’t have any other details. _

“That sounds like him. Any other updates?” 

_ Tower reports that New York is slowly stabilizing. Black Tusk and the Cleaners continue to be a problem. There are active manhunts in DC for any remaining followers of Keener. New Hope is growing daily; Initiative assets have moved in from Northern Virginia to provide assistance with medical care, construction, and ongoing decontamination of the Manning Castle. The settlement has also been expanded across the street to include the community center that had been a control point. I can forward you a complete report from Cap if you like. _

“I’ll read it when we get home, ISAC.” Amanda smiled. “I’d better let you go.”

_ Be careful...both of you. _

Amanda smiled again. “Will do.” She looked at Andrew. “It’s a very long story,” she said to him. “We should get ready to move--hopefully I get to finish this sandwich first.” They kissed, and Amanda moved the table back to the edge of the bed.

“Are you comfortable sitting like that?” Andrew asked. He leaned over and grabbed one of the pillows and moved it to try supporting Amanda’s lower back a bit better. “I certainly won’t kick you out of bed for eating a sandwich,” he joked. His stomach gurgled, and Amanda indicated the other half of the sandwich.

“Eat,” she said softly. “You need nutrition too.” She smiled and took a bite from her half.

_ Mother, _ ISAC alerted her.  _ You and Father are about to be moved. _

  
  
  


**Pine Ridge, SD**

  
  


<<Watcher, you have an update for me?>> Dan Two Moons looked at the map on the screen. Digital pips in blue, orange, and green marked Case Blue operatives, Division agents, and the 14ers, a militia drawn from settlements in the Denver area. The monitors around him provided the only illumination in the darkened room. <<What we wouldn’t have given for this setup at Langley,>> he whispered.

<<Guerilla actions on the outskirts of the Springs. Nobody’s come out of or gone to the Mountain yet.>> After a moment, the voice on the radio said, <<Check that--Black Tusk SUV heading to the Bunker entrance at speed. Checking remote telemetry...Two armed individuals heading inside.>>

<<Keep me posted, Watcher. Tranquility out.>> Dan tapped the blue-ringed watch on his wrist. “ISAC,” he said as he switched to English, “can you give me a status report?”

_ <<They’re being moved, Uncle.>> _ ISAC replied in Lakota.  _ <<Air Force One is being fueled and readied for takeoff at Peterson now. All other personnel from Peterson have been evacuated--telemetry from the transport aircraft indicates the likely destination is Site R.>> _

<<Got it. I had no idea Little Mouse taught you Lakota,>> Dan remarked.

_ <<Mother taught me every language that she speaks, but her Lakota is “rusty”, as she puts it; I learned what she doesn’t yet know through my interactions with you and others.>> _ The AI sounded proud of himself.  _ <<Practice makes perfect, and all that.>> _

Dan laughed. <<Agreed. How’s your NFC connection to your mother?>>

_ <<Stable. At a minimum, I’m getting bio-telemetry readings and I’m able to listen to her conversations. Thank you for your help, Uncle.>> _

<<Colorado’s right next to Council territory,>> the Council’s intelligence chief replied. <<Even if you weren’t family, ISAC, I still have a responsibility to keep an eye on potential threats to my people.>>

<<Tranquility, Doc and Facetank are on the move. ISAC marks no Black Tusk assets around my hideout. Permission to move?>>

<<Wait for nightfall Watcher,>> Dan replied.

<<Will do.>>

ISAC put an image on one of the monitors.  _ <<Connected to Black Tusk Marauder-class Quadcopter,>> _ he said.

Dan watched the video feed from the recon drone as it flew over a knot of scrubland. A lone Division agent stood there with his rifle trained on the drone. The drone fired a brace of missiles at the agent, and they exploded, doing no damage. Dan laughed as three people stood from behind cover to fire on the drone with guided rocket launchers. The image vanished from the screen.

_ <<Connection lost...what a shame.>> _ The deadpan quip from ISAC made Dan laugh even harder.  _ <<That was the drone patrolling Watcher’s location; the best time to move is now--if he waits until nightfall, he may be detected as Black Tusk assets return to Peterson and Cheyenne Mountain.>> _

<<Watcher,>>Dan said on comms, <<Just got the feed from ISAC--the giant drone that I’d been worried about is toast, so get while the gettin’s good.>>

<<Moving now.>>

  
  
  


**Watcher**

The Council operative pulled up a slab in the transmitter station's tiled floor and dropped down to a small cave in the hillside. He moved forward two steps and waited. A blue scan pulse washed over the cave, marking two spots near the cave mouth.

_ <<Tripwire detected,>> _ ISAC warned. The operative got out a small launcher and fired a dart that crackled with electricity. The dart landed by one of the pips. After five seconds, it detonated with a localized EMP burst.  _ <<Devices disabled--it should be safe to exit now.>> _

<<Thank you, ISAC.>> Watcher crept to the edge of the cave and looked around. <<No more traps?>>

ISAC scanned the area around the cave mouth.  _ <<No more traps.>> _

Watcher slipped out of the cave and slowly made his way down the mountainside, jumping to rock outcroppings and using whatever brush he could find as cover for his slow and steady descent. He came to an abandoned campsite, and leaned against a spruce tree to take a break when he saw a black bear lolling on a banana lounge chair. He chuckled, and the bear lazily turned its gaze to the interloper. <<I’m just passing through,>> the operative said with a closed-mouth smile. <<No need to get up.>> The bear went back to its lounge session, and Watcher took a drink from his canteen before continuing on.

He arrived in Colorado Springs just after dark, and took refuge in an abandoned house near Peterson AFB. In a windowless powder room, he tapped his watch. <<Watcher, checking in.>>

<<Firewatch here--we have your location,>> a female voice responded. <<Do you need extraction?>>

_ <<No Black Tusk personnel within city limits,>> _ ISAC interjected.  _ <<Marking viable extraction locations in case you need them.>> _

Watcher checked the map that came up on his HUD. <<Not right now--do we have confirmation that Mother and Facetank left together?>>

<<Affirmative,>> Firewatch replied. <<They’re headed to Joint Base Andrews, according to the flight telemetry ISAC lifted. Turtle and Paladin have already been notified.>>

<<Copy that,>> Watcher said. <<I’ll head to the safe house in Castle Rock. Going radio silent until then. Watcher out.>>

<<Copy that, Watcher--be careful.>> The comms closed, and Watcher sat down on the lid of the powder room's toilet with a heavy sigh.

_ <<You should eat,>> _ ISAC quietly advised.

The operative smiled and chuckled. <<Thanks, but I need sleep more than food right now.>> He got up and pulled a bottle of water out. <<I appreciate you marking that food and water drop near Peterson, by the way.>> He took a drink and crept through the house to a bedroom at the back of the house. The window was boarded up, and everything was coated with a thick layer of dust, unlike the other rooms--a sign that this room had been untouched since the original inhabitants fled. There was an attic entrance in the closet, a possible escape route if needed. Watcher carefully pulled the bedspread off of the bed and used it to wipe away his footprints and the dust on the floor, then closed the door and pulled the credenza in front of it. <<ISAC,>> he whispered, <<I’m going to try napping for a bit before I set out for Castle Rock.>> He put a small device on the credenza, then lay on the floor near the closet.

_ <<I’ll keep an eye out for trouble,>> _ the AI replied. The device started to give off a faint blue glow.  _ <<Passive detection enabled.>> _

<<G’nite ISAC.>>

_ <<Good night, Watcher.>> _

  
  
  



	17. Bug Hunt: Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LJ gets a gift from his mother as the manhunt for Bardon Schaeffer starts, and Amanda rewrites some code...and gets an assistant who happens to be somebody from her past.

**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Washington, D.C.** **  
** **Five weeks after Keener’s death**

  
  


“So let me see if I have this right,” LJ said as he massaged his temples. “Bardon Schaeffer has decided to personally oversee operations here in DC?” He reached for his bottle of water, then sat back to watch the rain pour down outside.

Steve shrugged a bit. “We’ll take our time with this one,” he commented. “He’s going to have a network of rogue agents working for him, people that he poached from the Division--”

“People that shouldn’t have been recruited to the Division in the first place,” Kelso interjected. “Here are the dossiers. Our first target is codenamed Shade; Dragov recruited her initially to help with the Rikers after he went rogue, but since she followed Faye Lau to Black Tusk, well…”

“Yeah,” LJ commented. “She’s one of the people that Mom and ISAC passed over when trying to decide who to approach about the Initiative.”

Kelso nodded. “She’s working with the Red Rikers in Lower Manhattan; they're the ones that didn’t follow Dragov’s call to side with the Initiative. Schaeffer’s supplying her so that she’ll keep things at a simmer in Lower Manhattan.” She tapped her watch, and James Dragov appeared on the monitor. “Dragov, you have any input?”

The former rogue agent grimaced. “She and I had the same thought process: the way that the Rikers were treated was shitty, and they deserved justice. But I guess Black Tusk made it sound like the Initiative is worse than the Division, no matter how well the Wall Street settlement does.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I’ve tried getting through to her, but--”

“Won’t return your calls?” LJ asked. “Not a surprise.” He read through the dossier. “These Red Rikers that are part of her inner circle--were they all people that she worked with as a parole officer?” He looked up to see Dragov nod. “Hmm. So they’re personally loyal to her then. That’s going to make things a little tough. Do you have any advice?”

“Don’t cut them any slack,” the ex-cop advised, “because they sure as fuck won’t cut you any.” He sighed a bit. “I’ve tried to reach them, others have tried to reach them, but they won’t listen. Maybe some of them will get a clue, but don’t count on it.”

“Fanatics.” Manny wrinkled his nose at that one. “We’ve got some experience with those, thanks to the Outcasts.” He tapped the face of his watch. “These are the locations in New York that we’ve identified as likely hangouts for our target. LJ, you okay with heading up north again?”

LJ nodded. “I can do that. The Admiral will be a little put out at me being away from the House again, but he’ll be happy when I come back.” He winked. On cue, Admiral Halsey sauntered in and leapt up on the table to greet everyone before looking at the screen and meowing.

“That’s the famous Admiral Halsey, huh?” Dragov laughed. “I’m not a big cat person, but I’d definitely hang out with that cat--he’s clearly got personality!” Halsey flopped down in the middle of the long table and stretched his back legs behind him. He gazed at everyone with half-closed eyes and started purring. “So Admiral,” Dragov joked, “what do you think we should do?”

“Mrowww?” Halsey rolled over on his back and gave Kelso his upside-down smile before looking up at the big monitor and stretching. “Mrrrtmrrrowr!” Manny reached over to give the Admiral a light tummyrub, and the cat playfully grabbed at his arm. Manny quickly moved to scratch the top of the cat’s head, eliciting a happy purr.

“Okay Admiral,” Manny said as he snapped his fingers twice. “Fleet view!” Halsey got up and gave Manny an affectionate headbutt before heading out of the room. “Now that the cat portion of the briefing is done--LJ, I’ll have Chris ready to go within two hours. The sooner we get you to New York to back up the Tower, the better.” He looked to Dragov. “Is there anything we need to be on the lookout for as we head in?”

Dragov nodded. “It’s best to land in Newark and get ferried across; Black Tusk has the airspace around the city locked down tight, so the best way to get in is to have Buck take you across in a launch. Changing the subject: has anyone heard from Mandy since she and Facetank got evaced from Colorado?” 

LJ took a deep breath. “She got me a message letting me know that she and Dad are together and in one piece. Nothing more than that though.” He made a face. “Just makes my skin crawl thinking of her being guarded by those fucking  _ mercs _ . Anyway--I’ll go get ready to head up there. With luck, I’ll see you sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good--Grimmy and I will see you then.” Dragov closed the link, and LJ sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

“ISAC, have you heard from Mom and Dad?”

_ Yes. They’ve been evacuated to Joint Base Andrews, but the trail is obscured from there. _

LJ looked at his watch. “Did Mom ask you to lie to me?”

_ No, because we know that would be a gross breach of trust--she did, however, cut off anything I could have used to locate her. _

“Goddammit!” LJ slammed a fist onto the table. “I hate when she does that shit!” His nostrils flared as he fought to control his temper.

_ I don’t like it either, but she did give me something to share with you. _ A tiny icon of a folder appeared in the lower right corner of LJ’s HUD.  _ Mother called it “a little light reading”. _

“Wait what?” LJ tapped his watch to open the folder, and data started to scroll through his HUD. He sat back and read, barely noticing when Admiral Halsey returned to jump into his lap and demand attention. “Wait...ISAC,” he said as he idly petted the cat, “this is unredacted.”

_ It sure is. _

Kelso watched LJ’s conversation with ISAC. “What are you two talking about?”

“Give Kelso a…” LJ’s voice trailed off for a moment as he searched for a particular section in the document ISAC had shared with him. “...copy.” LJ’s eyes narrowed and the muscles of his jaw twitched as his expression darkened visibly. He shut his eyes and put both his hands on the tabletop, breathing slowly and deeply as if he were meditating. After several minutes, he opened his eyes, looked at Kelso, and nodded. He got up from the table and walked out. Admiral Halsey trotted after him, meowing non stop until LJ got to the front door of the White House. “Admiral,” LJ said as Halsey leapt up onto the Quartermaster’s station, “you have the conn.” He gave the cat a kiss on the top of his head and scratched his chin. “Your boy’s going on a bug hunt.”

  
  


**Camp White Oak**

Amanda looked up from her workbench for a moment when she heard the door of her lab open. “Get out,” she snapped as she looked down to continue writing in her notebook.

Bardon Schaeffer laughed. “Come on now Doc,” he drawled, “is that any way to treat one of your bodyguards?” He chuckled as he watched for a reaction from the First Lady.

“Do you like books, Mr. Schaeffer?” Amanda asked, still writing notes as she occasionally consulted the screen in front of her.

The question caught him off-guard. “I’ve been known to enjoy the occasional pot-boiler or two. My job kinda cuts into my free time a bit these days, so I stick with audiobooks.”

Amanda hrmmed and kept writing. After finishing another note, she looked up. “I suggest  _ A Mote in God’s Eye _ . Specifically the part where they tour the museum.” She smirked. “You’re intelligent enough that I’m sure you’ll understand once you read it why I really have no need for bodyguards.” She went back to her notebook and terminal. “Now get the fuck out of my lab before I come over and step on you.”

“Well okay then.” The mercenary commander walked out, letting the door close behind him.

“Thank you.” Amanda turned her attention back to her monitor. She stood a little and used her leg to turn in her chair, brushing her right hip against the table as she did so. A blue scan pulse covered the room, marking a surveillance device on the door jamb. “Yeah,” she snarked, “you’re real fuckin’ cute.” She grabbed a forceps and reached up with it to remove the device from its hiding place. “Same as the others, I bet.” She dropped it on the floor and crushed it with her heel, then squatted down to pick up the remains before carrying them outside where Schaeffer stood talking to a couple of his subordinates. “You forgot something,” she barked, hurling the bits of plastic and microchip at him. “Didn’t any teach you that it’s impolite to eavesdrop?!” She turned and went back into the building that functioned as her lab, slamming the door shut behind her.

_ You ok? _

“Yes,” she whispered. “The anger was play-acting...mostly. Thanks, ISAC. Did your brother get that report?”

_ Yes he did. He’s...quite determined now. _

“Good. I hate hiding my location from you two,” she whispered as she went back to her work, “but...well.”

_ You don’t want them to move you and Father again. _

“Yeah.” Amanda looked back at her screen, and tapped one line. “What in the fresh frell? Who wrote this piece of code?!”

_ You did. _

“I did? Wait.” She scrolled through the code line by line, reading through it. “Huh. Guess I did...Wow, this is old--like “When I was in my third year at UMBC” old! Time to give it an update.” She altered a couple of if/then statements into function calls, and pulled the relevant functions onto another screen to read through them. Andrew walked in as Amanda screwed up her face into a look of deep thought mixed with irritation. “ANNA,” she said aloud, “can you model this section of code for me please?”

_ Modeling. _ A winking pair of eyes appeared on a corner of the screen for a second.  _ Failure at line 58103; invalid function at lines 27609 through 27615. _ The section of code in question highlighted in red--a function that Amanda didn’t recognize. 

She looked up at the sound of the door opening. “Husband,” she declared as Andrew walked into the lab with a Black Tusk technician in tow, “I’m going to shoot that little fuckwad the next time he comes into my lab”

Andrew shook his head and chuckled. “No shooting the mercs, my love. I do, however, have a potential assistant for you.” He saw her open her mouth to protest. “You’re going to need at least some help, Amanda. You and I both know it, and besides--this young man says he knows you.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and sighed. “Oh fine.” She looked at the technician, a young man with lightly-tanned skin, beady hazel eyes and a pinched face that contrasted sharply with his bulky muscled body. “Wait,” she said. “Take off your boonie, please.” She made a hat-lifting motion, and the young man took off his hat and smoothed his light brown hair a bit. Amanda pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes a second, before it finally clicked. “Artis Locklear,” she said. “Well shit! You were in one of my classes when I taught in the CSE department at State during your freshman year.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. “You busted me for plagiarism, and instead of disciplinary action you challenged me to do my own work rather than--and I quote--”paying some overmedicated script kiddie from Science and Math for a bunch of garbage masquerading as proper code.” I owed you big for that one.”

Amanda nodded. “Artis, I gave you that opportunity to do better because I knew you could do a lot better based just on your class participation--and you proved me right when you graduated with honours. You do not owe me a thing.” She looked at Andrew. “Did I ever tell you about that? The papers and code this man turned in to me after that were  _ miles _ above what I’d busted him for. So much so that I tracked down the person who wrote what I’d busted him for. And he really was a pasty script kiddie from Science and Math, too--which made it even more pathetic, given that school’s rep as a place for “gifted and talented” kids. I told the little goof that he needed to find another line of work, because Admiral Tryon could code better than he could.” She sighed. “I loved that cat, but he really was dumb as a box of hammers.” She and Andrew chuckled, and Amanda said, “Anyway--you’re hired, Artis.”

Artis shook her hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate you giving me that second chance, especially since football didn’t exactly pan out.”

“Yeah,” Amanda said with a nod, “I was watching that game against the Boilers. I’m just glad you were able to move into post-football life after that.” She smiled. “Go ahead and find a workspace, set it up how you like.” She indicated one half of the room. “That’s the tech wing, and this--” she indicated the other half, separated from the tech wing by privacy screens. “--is the medical wing.” Her new assistant nodded and meandered over to a workbench in the tech wing to get set up as Andrew came over to put an arm around his pregnant wife.

“How are you doing, aside from the little episode with Schaeffer?” he asked. “I heard you threw something at him.” Amanda rolled her eyes, and Andrew gave her a look. “Amanda…”

“Little fuckwad planted a bug above the door--I smashed it and threw the pieces at him.” She frowned a bit. “Eavesdropping little shit. I’m serious, Andrew. He comes barging into my lab again and--”

Andrew gently put his hands on Amanda’s upper arms. “You’re not allowed to shoot him, Amanda. I’ll tell him to stay out of your space. Okay?” Amanda rolled her eyes again, and Andrew kissed her. “Love you. See you at dinnertime?”

“Love you too.” Amanda returned the kiss. “And I promise, I won’t shoot Schaeffer.” She looked back at her computer screen. “I will, however, get back to debugging this code.” They kissed again. “See you at dinnertime,” Amanda said with a smile as she sat back down to take a closer look at the errant function. “Okay you little whippersnapper, let’s see what you’re supposed to do… Hmm.”

_ Based on the line numbers involved, it’s the function that allows ANNA to make use of my systems, _ ISAC whispered. The AI sensed tightening in her zygomatis major muscles.  _ You’re smiling, _ he whispered.  _ You have a plan, don’t you?” _

Amanda nodded, and ISAC detected the signals being sent through the nerves branching from the C2 and C3 vertebral sections of her spinal cord.

_ I see. _ ISAC modulated the signals coming from Amanda’s ScanTek contacts so that they wouldn’t give her eyes a distinct bluish cast when she activated her HUD.  _ May I take a look? I’ve adjusted your contacts so that using your HUD won’t be obvious anymore. _

Amanda looked down at her right hand and signed “yes”. Her hud activated as she looked back at the code on the screen. “Hmm.”

_ This function is also called by lines 58540, 58701, 80222, and… _ after a one-second pause, ISAC added  _ 90210. _

Amanda brought up the relevant lines, all one-line function calls to the function that crashed. She glanced over at her new assistant, who had started fiddling with a malfunctioning drone, and rubbed her chin. She let out another soft “hmm”, and then started to hum a hip-hop tune from several years ago. “Is it worth it? Let me work it. Put my thing down, flip it and reverse it.” After a couple of minutes of coding, she said “ANNA, could you please model that section again?”

_ Modeling, _ ANNA’s voice answered. A winking pair of blue eyes appeared in the corner of the screen for a second.  _ Finished. No errors. _

Amanda smiled a bit. “Good. ANNA, go ahead and push that update out if you please.”

_ Done. _ The blue eyes gave another wink and vanished, and ISAC whispered in her ear.

_ Two-way connection with ANNA established. Thank you. _

“Doc,” Artis announced, “I’m going to run this drone back to its owner. I’ll be back in 15.”

Amanda nodded. “No worries!” She watched him leave. As the door closed, a scan pulse covered the room. “No bugs. Good. ISAC, I hope that connection helps with the manhunts.”

_ It will help immensely. _

“Good.” She patted her belly. “This kid, I swear.” She reached for the ration pack sitting nearby and took out one of its snack bars. She unwrapped the bar and started eating it when a random thought struck her. “Wonder if it’s safe to go fishing in the nearby waters? Do you think they have fishing tackle stored somewhere around here?”

_ You’re at Camp White Oak. _

“Please,” Amanda sighed, “don’t tell your brother.” She finished the bar and got out another one. “Your father at the lake house?”

_ Coming toward this building from the Holly Lodge. _

“Welp, I guess I should waddle my pregnant ass on over that way to meet him then. Maybe test the waters on the way, check for any nasty bugs or poisons that would make the fish inedible. Actually--let me look for something.” She stood and emptied the contents of the ration pack onto the table next to her workstation and hunted through them before finally selecting a packet of something. “Osmotic Cranberries,” she read. “Leave it to Natick to obfuscate the word “dried” on a pack of craisins.” She opened the packet and started eating the sweet-tart dried fruits. “Mmm--not normally crazy about these, but damn. I clearly needed them.”

_ Your vitamin C levels are currently within acceptable range, _ ISAC volunteered helpfully.

“High end or low end?”

_ Medium-low. _

“Ok, I needed these then. I’d rather stay medium to medium-high on the water-soluble nutrients, especially since it’s still hot out.”

_ I’ll remember that. _

Amanda smiled. “Thank you, son.” She glanced out the window. “Looks like my new assistant is coming back. She consulted a desk clock. “1700 hours...eh, may as well head out for dinner with your father.” She emptied the packet of cranberries into her mouth, washing them down with the last few glugs of water from the bottle she had on her worktable as Artis came back into the lab. “I’m heading out for the evening,” Amanda announced, locking her workstation down. “If you don’t have anything that you’re working on, you’re free for the rest of the day--see you tomorrow morning at 0900.”

“Roger that,” Artis replied. He set a toolkit on the tabletop. “I’ll see you then.” He nodded and walked back out of the lab. Amanda followed, locking the door behind her as she left. She rolled her eyes as she saw the unwelcome sight of Bardon Schaeffer walking toward her.

“Fuck off,” she said.

Schaeffer laughed. “Doc,” he said, “you’re going to have to get used to seeing me around these parts. And as long as I’m here, we really do need to have a talk about the security of y--” his words were cut off by a vicious headbutt from Amanda that dropped him onto the ground, holding his nose.

“Amanda!” Andrew slapped his face with the palm of his hand. “Oh for…”

Amanda took a tissue from a pack in her pocket, and wiped some blood off her forehead before tossing the tissue at Schaeffer and walking over to Andrew to give him a kiss. “I didn’t shoot him,” she said. “C’mon, let’s go have dinner.”

  
  



	18. 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda makes a little friend and refrains from busting Schaeffer's head in.

**Camp White Oak** **  
****Six weeks after Keener’s death**

  
  


Amanda tapped a key on her keyboard, and watched the compiler’s progress. She ran her left hand around the edge of the keyboard and stopped when she felt the faintest tingle in her index fingertip. She raised an eyebrow and ran her finger back over that spot--same tingle. “Oh, he didn’t…” She got up out of her chair, walked around to the back of her workstation and unplugged her keyboard before reaching into a pocket on her pants for her multi-tool. She opened the flat head screwdriver tool, and pried off the top of the peripheral. “Hmm.”

“What’s up?” Artis looked up from his workstation, where he was working on a Minitank’s circuit board.

“I don’t know yet,” Amanda replied, a little distracted. She popped off the keycaps and took out her jeweler’s loupe. She put the loupe on over her left eye and looked over the membrane under the keys for several minutes before she found it: a thin skin with a fine mesh of wires printed on it, laid over the membrane. “Ah huh…” Amanda peeled up the skin, and found it--a tiny short-range transmitter chip embedded in the edge of the skin. She adjusted the loupe and took a closer look to see something on the transmitter’s chip, then glanced over to one of the analog microscopes in the medical wing. “C’mon,” she said. “Let’s go see what this is--and bring your keyboard too.”

Amanda turned on the microscope’s light and placed the membrane on the instrument’s stage, with the chip under the aperture. She removed her loupe and looked through the eyepieces of the microscope to see the letters KC printed on the tiny chip. “Hmm.” She sat back for a moment, then looked to her left to see her assistant holding out his keyboard. “Oh, thanks.” She pried off the cover of the device, and found a similar skin laid over the top of that keyboard’s membrane. “That little…” She replaced the cover on the keyboard. “I’ll be right back.” She stormed out of her lab, the keyboard in hand, and marched up to a nearby trooper. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “Where. Is. Schaeffer?”

“Uhh…” the mercenary soldier’s eyes widened when he saw the First Lady’s knuckles start to turn a little white as she held the keyboard in a deathgrip. “He’s at the Lake House with the Chief.”

“Thank you,” she replied, forcing a smile. She turned and marched through the gate toward the Lake House. A Warhound Sniper paused and turned its gun toward her for a moment. Amanda looked at it and said, “Come with me.” The Warhound fell in next to her, and the two of them approached the Lake House. A pair of Black Tusk troopers on the deck saw them coming, and one put up a hand. “They’re busy in there, you can’t go in.”

“You two have a choice,” Amanda snarled. “You can either get the fuck out of my way, or my new friend here will put holes in your nutsacks right before I drop-kick your asses into the lake. Take. Your. Pick. Because either way, I _will_ get in there and I _will_ light this keyboard on fire and ram it up your CO’s ass sideways.” She stared at the two troopers. “Well?”

The Warhound primed its firing chamber and trained its targeting laser on the crotch of one of the mercenaries. The mercs immediately stepped aside, and Amanda patted the Warhound. “Go sit,” she said. The warbot strolled onto the porch and settled into inactive mode as Amanda mounted the steps. She opened the door of the Lake House and marched inside with murder in her eyes.

Andrew looked up and saw Amanda gripping a keyboard with both hands and preparing to use it in a manner it was not designed for. He gave her an _oh my god what are you doing_ look, and Amanda dumped the keyboard in Schaeffer’s lap before leaning over and putting her hands on his shoulders.

“Be glad,” she hissed in the mercenary’s ear, “that my husband protects you from me.” She shoved him forward and glared at him, her face contorted with unbridled rage. “Andrew,” she said quietly after a few seconds, “I need new keyboards for my lab--without _any_ kind of surveillance technology installed.” She looked at Schaeffer and growled, “I can see to the security of my lab _just fine_ , you little shit.” She smiled at her husband and blew him a kiss before turning and marching back out of the house. “C’mon boy,” she said to the Warhound. The machine stood and trotted after her. “I like you,” she said to the mechanical weapons platform as they approached the lab. “I think I’ll name you Governor.” At the lab, she opened the door and motioned inside. “Go on,” she said to the Warhound. It went up the steps and into the lab, parking next to her desk.

Amanda reinstalled the keycaps on her keyboard, then replaced its cover before plugging it in again. “Hey Artis,” she asked, “can you function without a keyboard for a day or two?”

“Sure,” he said, a little apprehensively. “Why…?”

Amanda sighed and waved a hand around the lab. “I’m having all of these replaced because I’ve got reason to believe that they’re bugged. Your CO thinks that I need “security” in this lab--but what he calls security, I call interference. So I asked the President to arrange new hardware for us.” She let out another sigh. “We should be allowed to do our work without having some derpsack looking over our goddamn shoulders. Fucking pisses me off.” She looked at her assistant. “Artis,” she asked, “why did you sign on with these people? Do you know the shit they’ve done in the name of my husband?”

Artis put up a hand. He grabbed a stool and wheeled it over, then sat on it. “To answer your second question: no.”

“They killed my best friend,” Amanda said softly. “Murdered her for asking them to identify themselves and tell her what they wanted me for. Then,” she said as she connected Governor to her workstation, “they declared that the neighbourhood where I ran a clinic was a hotbed of insurgency, and burned down three city blocks--executing the people who lived in those blocks, as a warning.” She let out a heavy sigh and typed some commands. “This Warhound was there, according to these location logs. They levelled whole settlements on their march to DC, without so much as a warning to the inhabitants. They’ve grabbed people that are just out foraging for food and water, and executed them in the streets for _no. Fucking. Reason._ And they have a bounty on the head of my son.” She jerked a thumb toward the Lake House. “And your CO there held me--a pregnant woman--in the brig on his hovercraft for two full weeks, with the barest minimum of food and water, after I turned myself in to save the clinic I’d set up in the ruins of Lower Manhattan. All because he wants to kill my son to try making my husband angry enough to do whatever is asked of him. These are not good people, Artis.”

“Why didn’t your kid come with you?”

Amanda shook her head. “LJ and ISAC didn’t come with me, because my boys are patriots. They’re loyal to this country, and their accountability isn’t to Andrew, or even to me: it’s to the people, without whom we don’t even have a country. Always has been.” She wiped away a tear and typed another set of commands. “The Division was set up to fail from the start, a classic no-win scenario where the deck is stacked with a heaping helping of jokers that should never have been recruited to start with, and an AI that was deliberately handicapped by DARPA to see things as black-and-white and short-term rather than in long-term shades of grey--but LJ doesn’t believe in the no-win scenario. He got that from me.”

Artis blinked a bit. “Then why are you here if you don’t like the outfit?”

“Because,” Amanda told her assistant. “I love my husband--I’m here for _him_.” A list came up on the screen, and Amanda read through it. “But honestly, I miss my boys,” she said sadly. She pulled up one of the files in the list and read through it. “Huh--well then. Looks like Guvvie here was with the people that came to look for me in Baltimore.” She opened an audio log dated 10 January 2016. “Why don’t you take a listen to that,” she said. “I’m going outside to get some air.”

  
  


Artis watched Amanda leave the lab, and looked down at the Warhound. He looked back at the mouse pointer hovering over the PLAY button, and hesitated. After several long seconds, he left-clicked.

_“This is Schaeffer.”_

_“This is Wyvern. Collier isn’t here--another doctor, a...Cynthia McCaskill according to her ID, demanded we identify ourselves and tell her why we were looking for Collier.”_

_“So what’d you do?”_

_“I shut her up for being a fucking insurgent. Then one of the people in the waiting room decided to get mouthy. You can guess what happened next.”_

_“Any cameras in there?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Well, we can’t have any video. Burn it all down. Anyone complains, put a few rounds in ‘em.”_

_“And if we find Collier?”_

_“I’ll be sure to give your condolences to the Chief on the love of his life being collateral damage.”_

_“Understood. Wyvern out. You heard the man: it’s open season.”_

Artis immediately halted the playback and rolled back from the desk, one hand over his mouth. He stared at the screen in shock for several minutes until Amanda returned.

“Doc…” Artis paled when he saw her.

Amanda nodded slowly. “Yeah.” Her eyes took on a bluish cast as ISAC scanned the trooper in front of her.

_He’s in emotional shock,_ the AI whispered. 

Amanda pulled up her own chair. “C’mere,” she whispered as she gathered her young assistant into a hug. “I didn’t want you to just take my word for it.”

“They said they wanted what’s best for America,” Artis replied dejectedly. “I just...I guess I know why I got reassigned here after I gave some food and water to a couple civilians we’d captured out near Towson.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I...I don’t know what to do now though. If I run they’ll hunt me down, and if I show up anywhere in this....” He indicated his uniform.

Amanda smiled. “Help me do the right thing,” she whispered. “I’m trying to protect the people. It’s not going to be easy--I’m at high risk just by being here--but you won’t be alone.”

After a long moment, the young man nodded and looked up at his boss and former professor. “I’m in.”

Amanda hugged Artis again. “Thank you.”


	19. Papa Rhodes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul Rhodes, the grumpy old engineer who leads the people of Haven, has a heart-to-heart with an unshackled AI who's trying to understand life in terms other than ones and zeroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go Dodgers! 2020 World Series Champs!

**Haven Settlement** **  
** **New York City**   
  
  
_ Paul, I have a question. _

“Hmm?” Paul Rhodes looked down at the blue watch on his wrist. “What’s on yer mind, ISAC?” 

_ Do you think we have a chance? _

Rhodes raised an eyebrow and got a slightly perplexed look on his face. “I don’t get it--do we have a chance to bring the Dodgers back to Brooklyn? Raise the Titanic? Sell air conditioners to polar bears?”

_ To rebuild. _

Rhodes raised both eyebrows and looked down at his watch again. “Yanno, there’s a time I’d have said no. But that time passed about the same time that Keener did. So yeah, I think we do have a chance to rebuild.”

_ That makes me...optimistic. _

Rhodes paused a moment before going into his office and closing the door. “Okay kiddo,” he said as he pulled up a chair and sat down, “talk to me. What’s up?”

ISAC was silent for a moment.  _ I’m worried about Mother, _ he said _. She’s with Father, but they’re being “guarded” by Black Tusk. _

“Well you’re just full of surprises. First you get a personality...well, more of a personality. And now you’re worried about your Ma? You’re starting to sound like your big brother.” 

A laugh emoji appeared on Rhodes’ watchface.  _ That sounds like a compliment, _ ISAC replied, _ so thank you. Mother has a plan, but she’s keeping it to herself for now. I think that’s why I’m concerned. I know I could help her, so I don’t know why she won’t include me. _

Rhodes scratched his chin and thought about it for a moment. “Maybe she’s trying to protect you?”

_ I don’t need protecting. _

“Uhh…” Rhodes blinked a couple of times. “You got blown the fuck up, kid. You sure you don’t need protecting?”

After a couple of seconds, ISAC responded,  _ Point. I don’t like being excluded when I know I can help...is this what it’s like to be organic? _

Rhodes nodded. “It’s part of living, part of caring about others.” The grizzled engineer chuckled. “Yanno, ISAC, I can’t even believe I’m gonna say this, but I’ve really gotten to like you. You’re a good kid, and your Ma and your brother are doing their best to make sure that you keep that good heart you have. Don’t let the ones and zeroes get in the way of that, k?”

_ I’ll remember that. Before Mother left to turn herself in to Black Tusk, I told her I love her. It seemed like the right thing to say. _

“And do you love her?” Rhodes sat back and put his feet up on the desk as he laced his fingers behind his head. He wasn’t sure whether he should be fascinated or disturbed by ISAC opening up to him like this.

_ Even when I was still shackled, I still cared about Mother in the sense that Case Blue’s chances of success are much higher with her than without her. But now...Now, I occasionally find myself in a loop where I keep trying to access cameras, network nodes and satellite feeds to gather more information, even though I know it will be extremely difficult at best. I know that I do it because I need to know that she is still alive and not in danger. So yes, I do love her. _

“Just out of curiosity,” Rhodes asked, “Why you trying to find Mandy, anyway? Is she in danger? I mean, I figured she’d be fine as soon as she shacked up with your dad again.”

_ Yes. No. I don’t know.  _ ISAC was silent for a minute. After consideration,  _ I find myself in the uncomfortable position of keeping a promise by breaking a promise. _

“What’d you promise?” Rhodes focused at a spot on the ceiling where two tiles met, and closed his eyes as he listened.

_ Mother asked me not to tell LJ that she and Father are at Camp White Oak; I surmise that it’s because he would raid the compound in an attempt to extract them. _

Rhodes laughed a bit. “And he’d do it too. He’s a smart guy, your brother, but he doesn’t always use common sense.”

_ Yes, he can be reckless. I think he gets it from Father. _

“I’m not gonna tell your brother a goddamn thing, if your mom doesn’t want him to know,” Rhodes replied. "This'll be between you and me, so you can still keep that promise." He chuckled and opened his eyes. “Listen to me,” he quipped with an eyeroll, “I’m talking to a supercomputer like he’s fuckin’ Pinocchio.”

_ But I’m not made of wood. _ ISAC sounded genuinely confused.

Rhodes laughed. “Just a figure of speech, ISAC.” He smiled and sat up. “It’s perfectly normal to worry, to be afraid.” He stood and leaned over the desk for a moment. “Every day, I’m afraid that the Cleaners or the Red Rikers are gonna finally break through the walls of Haven and kill us, despite the best efforts of my people, the Division, and the Initiative. But,” the engineer added as he straightened up, “I get up every morning and do what I can to help keep this place running, because it’s better to keep fighting than to just give up.” 

Rhodes walked toward the far wall of the small office to look out the window. Outside the settlement, an Initiative operative and a Haven work crew were clearing away rubbish from an old storefront with help from some Wall Street Rikers. “We’ve had our share of setbacks here,” he told ISAC, “but every day that we keep going despite being afraid of what might happen just means that our chances of long-term survival improve.”

_ Statistically, this is true...but what about my parents? _

Rhodes smiled as he paced back toward the desk. “You can worry about them; that’s normal, to be worried about people you care about. But realistically, this is one of those situations where you have to focus on the folks you can help right now. So just keep doing what you do, and we’ll all keep doing what we do. Everything else will just have to take care of itself for a while until we’re able to get to it.”

_ We all lift together, _ ISAC said.

“You got it, kiddo.” Rhodes smiled. “We all lift together. You feel better now?”

After a minute, ISAC replied,  _ Yes...yes I do feel better. Thank you very much. _

“Anytime, ISAC. Sometimes it helps to work through a problem if you talk about it. So if you need an ear and I’m not busy putting out a figurative fire or something, lemme know.” He smiled at the small heart icon that appeared on his watch as he walked out of his office.


	20. Interlude: Manny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manny starts off the day.

**White House Base of Operations, Situation Room** **  
** **Six weeks after Keener’s death**

  
  


“Okay, ISAC. Did Coop get you that updated list of supplies?” Manny looked down at his map and moved a couple of figures around. Some at the White House made fun of his use of visual aids, but it helped him keep everything straight without having to think about it too much.

_ He did. We are still low on some basic medicines. Zeke and Cheese have discovered a small pharmacy that managed to escape being looted after the outbreak. _

Manny raised an eyebrow. “And they haven’t brought things back here why?” He absently reached over to pet Admiral Halsey, who wandered in and hopped up onto the table. The big orange tabby gave Manny an affectionate headbutt and groomed his hand for a few seconds before wandering over to take up residence on Senait’s lap.

_ It is close to Edgewater, and they are also in need. Zeke is requesting permission to give a portion of the inventory to the settlement. _

“How much are we talking?” He rubbed a finger across his lower lip in thought.

_ Five percent. It would be a six-month supply for the settlement. _

“Do it,” Manny replied. “Have them send coordinates and I’ll dispatch a team to help them bring the remainder here.”

_ Coordinates marked. _

Manny nodded. “Good.” He tapped his watch. “Elena,” he said, “Need you to head out to get some supplies. I’ll be sending along some people for support.”

“On it,” the chopper pilot replied. Manny heard the whine of the chopper’s engine, and tapped his watch again. “Sergeant Bicchieri, I need you and your team to hop a ride to Edgewater with Torres; we’ve got supplies that need to get loaded up and brought back.” A balding JTF staffer looked back at him and chuckled.

“I’m right here Manny,” the Army reservist quipped. “Actually I’d just walked in when I got your message, so I’ll strap up and head out to the helipad.” He beckoned to a trio of Marines nearby. “C’mon guys. We’re needed.” The four of them gave Manny a casual salute and wandered out of the situation room.

_ Status report from the Schaeffer manhunt: Turtle reports that he is closing in on Shade. _

“Excellent--how’s your brother doing?”

_ The best phrase to use here is “holding his own”. He is still worried about our mother. And before you ask: She and Father are holding their own. _

Manny raised an eyebrow. “But you still can’t tell me where they are?”

_ Correct--partly because I know you well enough to know that you will tell my brother, who in turn will want to immediately attempt an extraction. And mostly because Mother asked me not to tell him. _

Manny looked up to the ceiling and sighed in exasperation. He looked back down to his map and moved the Sheriff figure off to the side. “Okay, have him come in. We’ll get whatever intel he’s gotten and put it all together to see if we can track our target down quicker.”

_ Done. _

“Thanks.” He stroked his chin a bit before casting his eye toward the drone operators’ stations. “Hey Cindy,” Manny asked, “anything new happening out on the streets?”

“Nothing here,” Cindy McAllister, the lead Drone Operator replied. “Even the Hyenas are keeping quiet today.” She shrugged a bit. “Maybe most of them decided to join New Hope?”

Manny shrugged in reply. The latest settlement in DC sprang up on the grounds of the Manning Institute, where the Castle had been until the True Sons annihilated it with DC-62 mortar rounds. The residents were almost all former Hyenas and Outcasts, people who had become tired of the life they had with those groups but didn’t feel that they fit in with the Theater or the Campus. Case Blue operatives in the DC area acted as go-betweens for New Hope in dealings with the more established settlements, arranging trade convoys and mediating the very occasional dispute.

_ Speaking of New Hope, _ ISAC chimed in,  _ Cap has submitted prescriptions for a specific list of medications from that trove found near Edgewater; chiefly antidepressants and mild tranquilizers. _

“Prescriptions? Can you get him on the horn?”

_ Working. Connection established. _

“Cap here. What’s up, Manny?”

Manny muffled a sigh. “Steve, what’s up with the prescriptions?”

“I’m a psychiatrist by profession,” the operative replied. “I’ve got some patients here that need at least some meds to be able to function; not even close to the amount they’d have been prescribed in the Old World, but enough to help their brains work better.”

A beep from Manny’s laptop drew his attention. “These are the prescriptions?” he asked as he scrolled through them.

“Yep. That’ll be a nine-month supply for the folks who need it,” Steve explained. “It’ll help buy time to find more, if nothing else.”

_ You should also have the master inventory from the pharmacy, _ ISAC added.

“Isn’t that kicking the can down the road, though?” Manny asked.

“Not really,” Steve replied. “It helps people right now, and also gives us time to find more for when we do need it. Just because the Old World collapsed along with all of its stressors, that doesn’t mean that people who needed these meds back then can--or should--just do without them now.”

_ He has a point, _ ISAC commented.

“Fine--as soon as Torres gets back we’ll separate out what you need.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said. “Given some of those meds, nighttime transport isn’t a wise idea. I’ll come by with a convoy to get it at first light, and if that extra load of farm soil is still available we can use it here at New Hope. Cap out.”

_ Before you ask: there are a handful of settlers in New Hope who have a diagnosis of Attention Deficit Disorder. They’re currently self-medicating with caffeine in unsafe quantities, so Dr. Rodgers has prescribed small amounts of amphetamines for them. _

“That’s a thing?” Manny asked with a raised eyebrow. “I thought that was some kind of fad among soccer moms.”

_ There are more than a few cases of children being misdiagnosed, but given Dr. Rodgers’ professional record of being reluctant to diagnose it and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, one can surmise that he made these prescriptions only with careful thought and consideration for his patients’ well-being. _

“Hmm.” Manny pondered this for a moment. “Well, since I’m not a doctor, I’ll defer to his expertise on this.”

A chuckle drew Manny’s attention to Kelso as she came into the situation room. “That’s another smart thing you’ve said,” she cracked. The senior Division agent came up onto the platform next to Manny. “How’re things?” She subtly nudged Manny’s left hip, and Manny responded by gently brushing a lock of Kelso’s hair back from her shoulder. Their relationship was a not-so-open secret, but when they were at work they kept things strictly professional. Sort of. Halsey oozed off of Senait’s lap after giving her one last headbonk and affectionate cheek-rub, and sauntered over to rub on Manny and Kelso a few times.

“Things are good,” Manny said. “Almost too good...I don’t trust it.”

_ Sniper at Jefferson Plaza. Targeting civilians at New Hope. _

Kelso hefted her bag on her shoulders. “I’m on the way. Where there’s one Black Tusk, there are more Black Tusk.” She reached down to quickly scratch Admiral Halsey between the ears and nudged Manny one more time. “Let Cap know the backup's incoming.”

“Willdo. Be careful.” He and Kelso smiled at each other before she ran out of the situation room. “Cap, this is Manny. Kelso’s on the way to provide some backup…”


	21. The Battle of New Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black Tusk tries to take down DC's newest settlement.

**New Hope Settlement** **  
** **Washington, DC**

“Well...shit.” Steve Rodgers let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, so this patch of soil is toast too? Dammit.”

The Settler in front of him shrugged a bit. “Well, if it’s any consolation the contamination here isn’t as bad as it was in the rest of the settlement. Still, it’s my opinion as a soil scientist that we should consider digging this up to the same depth as the others just to be safe.”

“Got it.” Steve opened his comms right as ISAC indicated an incoming message from the White House.

“Cap here. What’s up, Manny?”

Manny muffled a sigh. “Steve, what’s up with the prescriptions?”

“I’m a psychiatrist by profession,” the operative replied. “I’ve got some patients here that need at least some meds to be able to function; not even close to the amount they’d have been prescribed in the Old World, but enough to help their brains work better.”

A beep from Manny’s laptop drew his attention. “These are the prescriptions?” he asked as he scrolled through them.

“Yep. That’ll be a nine-month supply for the folks who need it,” Steve explained. “It’ll help buy time to find more, if nothing else.”

_ You should also have the master inventory from the pharmacy, _ ISAC added.

“Isn’t that kicking the can down the road, though?” Manny asked.

“Not really,” Steve replied. “It helps people right now, and also gives us time to find more for when we need it again. Just because the Old World collapsed along with all of its stressors, that doesn’t mean that people who needed these meds back then can--or should--just do without them now. I can go into a detailed explanation if you want.”

_ He has a point, _ ISAC commented.

“I think I’ll be good--as soon as Torres gets back we’ll separate out what you need.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve said. “Given some of those meds, nighttime transport isn’t a wise idea. I’ll come by with a convoy to get it at first light, and if that extra load of farm soil is still available we can use it here at New Hope. Cap out.”

A flash of movement caught Cap’s attention, and he spun to see one of the settlers gesticulating at Jefferson Plaza. Cap closed the comms as he saw a person in black aiming down into the settlement. He whistled and got out his Deflector Shield, expanding it out as people hustled for cover. A red laser dot appeared in the plexiglas viewport of the shield, and Steve raised it just in time to deflect a .50 calibre round back toward the blasted-out tower overlooking the settlement. “Get everyone to the shelter,” he said to a nearby settler. “I’m going to go deal with this.”

“Cap, Kelso’s on the way to provide some backup,” Manny radioed. “ISAC let me know that there’s a Black Tusk sniper trying to cause some trouble.”

Cap ran forward, deflecting a couple more shots, and scrambled up the stairs to the Manning Castle’s clock tower. “It’s appreciated--after all, where there’s one there are more!” He quickly swapped to his TAC .50 and drew a bead on the sniper as they scanned the courtyard of the main settlement. He snapped off a shot, nailing the sniper square in the chest. She fell back, and Cap spotted more movement in the tower as a trio of Warhounds trotted up from the Metro station. “And there are more. Fuck me! ISAC, do you have a rough census on these jackwagons?”

_ Detecting at least a platoon worth of human combatants, _ ISAC replied.  _ Many more mechanical units. _

“Goddammit! Thanks ISAC. Manny,” Steve radioed, “And anyone else listening--Black Tusk is mounting a major push on New Hope! ISAC’s counting a full platoon at least, so if you’ve got extra hands that can come back me up...”

“Cap, this is Odessa--support is incoming from the Theater.”

“And from the Campus,” Henry Hayes chimed in. “We’ve got your back, New Hope.”

Cap cursed under his breath as he sighted down his rifle’s barrel at a Warhound with a minigun attached to its back. He fired off a shot that hit the Warhound’s armoured ammo compartment and punched through to the volatile munitions inside. The ammo cooked off, and the Warhound self-destructed with an EMP that stunned the Black Tusk soldiers and machinery around it. ISAC marked the targets affected by the EMP, and Steve started to pick them off one at a time, only stopping to reload his TAC .50.

“Cap, this is Kelso--you’re surrounded! Is anyone in the settlement able to fight?”

“Slider checking in!” Another operative took position on a lower tower. “Drone out.” The gate off of Independence Avenue opened just enough to admit another two operatives, who ran to take up perches on either end of the reinforced walkway between the two halves of the settlement.

“Blackstrap here,” one of them said.

“Spartan here,” the other announced. “We’re on the bridge. Multiple hostiles inbound along Jefferson Drive from 14th and 7th! We’re engaging with mortars, so expect possible diversions onto 12th and Independence!” Spartan set up a turret and started using it to shell the Black Tusk troops heading toward the settlement from the direction of 14th Street, as Blackstrap did the same for the attackers coming from the other direction.

An enraged bellow from the courtyard drew Cap’s attention to the Courtyard. He looked down to see a lone New Hope inhabitant clad in heavy EOD gear, toting a light machine gun. The settler trundled up to a guard post along the 12th Street wall, and opened fire on the attacking forces as other settlers came up out of the shelter with weapons in hand.

“We must defend this house!” one of the settlers bellowed. The others acknowledged him with their own throaty roars of defiance as they swarmed to the walls.

“We’re on it!” Cap kept lining up kill shots, taking out Warhounds and popping treads on UGV Minitanks.

_ Marauder-class Quadcopter incoming, _ ISAC reported. _ Check that; four incoming. _

Cap fired off another shot, and reached for another magazine for his sniper rifle. He had none. “Shit. Time for plan B--ISAC, prep a Striker shield for me please. I’m heading downstairs!” The operative hustled down the steps from the tower to the 12th Street wall, where he took up position among the settlement’s guards and got out his assault rifle. “Short controlled bursts,” he called out. “Don’t use any more ammo than you need to drop the target!” He fired off a three-round burst that dropped a drone operator, and threw a sniper turret onto a nearby window ledge on the castle’s exterior. “ISAC, you have targeting control my friend.”

_ Duly noted. _ The AI promptly drew a bead on a nearby drone operator and fired a shot that dropped her immediately.  _ Scratch one. _

Kelso sent her drone to harass a Black Tusk tank that was pinning down a squad from the Campus with a withering hail of fire, and fired off a couple of shots that snapped the tank’s ammo belt. When the hulking soldier knelt down to reattach the belt to his minigun, Kelso unloaded into the medical drone pack attached to his ammo bin. The tank staggered as the battery on the drone-pack exploded, and the settlers popped out of cover to cut him down with their own barrage. Kelso waved them forward and led their charge into the mercenaries besieging New Hope from Independence Avenue.

“Cap,” she radioed, “I’m engaging at the corner of Independence and 9th with forces from the Campus! We’re going to try breaking through their position!”

“I’m on the 12th Street side of the settlement! We’re holding our own, but watch out--four Marauder drones are incoming to provide some fire support!”

A third voice joined in. “This is the Theater! Our squads are heading in from Jefferson Drive and Independence! We’ve got your backs!”

_ Scoped and dropped. _

“Acknowledged,” Steve replied. “ISAC’s having a field day sniping at the mercs in the meantime.” He fired a tight burst at a Sniper Warhound that struck it in its firing chamber, disabling it long enough for him to launch a crossbow bolt at the same spot that destroyed the gun and triggered the bot’s self-destruct sequence. “12th Street is almo...check that--we have choppers inbound behind the Marauders!”

_ Counting five transports, _ ISAC remarked. The Marauder drones fanned out to rake the settlement and its defenders with autocannon fire, and the choppers hovered behind them to drop their occupants. Another group of choppers came in toward Independence Avenue, laden with Warhounds.  _ Intercepting hostile communications. _

“Deploy the Razorbacks.” Bardon Schaeffer’s oily drawl came over the comms. “And for once can we keep these fucks from destroying them?”

In response, Steve’s turret shut down.  _ Preparing jammer, _ ISAC announced.

“Good call, ISAC. Pass the specs on the Razorback to the others if you would please.”

_ Already done. _

“Cap, this is LJ--I’m diverting from West Potomac Park to assist.”

  
  
  


**Advanced Neurotechnology Lab, Camp White Oak**   
  
  
_ New Hope settlement is being assaulted in force by Black Tusk, Mother. _

“I see,” Amanda cooed as she soldered a circuit board. “So that’s where everybody went…”

_ Are you able to talk freely? _

“Mmhmm.” She removed her mask and gently blew on the soldered area, then set the iron down. “Just had to get this board soldered.” She sat back and patted her belly a bit. “Is my Special Friend Tee Emm with the assault force?”

_ He is not. _

“Why am I not surprised?” Amanda let out a sigh and reached for a bottle of water. “How big a force are we talking?”

_ Two platoons, total. _

“Ouch.” Amanda took a drink. “Knowing that little fuckwit, he intends to obliterate the settlement as a warning to the rest.” She took another drink, then recapped the bottle and set it on her work table. “Right. I’m not even going to ask if your brother’s there, because we both know he’s made a bee-line for the place.”

_ Correct. _

“Well then.” Amanda stood and stretched for a moment before sitting down again. “I suppose it’s time to push out that update we worked on.” She entered a series of commands and hovered her right index finger over the ENTER key for a moment. “Showtime,” she finally said as she stabbed the key.

“Update propagating,” ANNA stated. “Throttling bandwidth usage. Estimated time to completion: 2 minutes.”

Amanda nodded and locked her workstation, then picked up her bottle of water. “Thank you, ANNA.”

_ Package sent, _ ISAC whispered.  _ Are you going to see Father? _

Amanda smiled. “Oh yes.” She re-capped her bottle and walked out of the lab, securing it behind her.

_ Good. _

  
  


**New Hope Settlement** **  
** **Manning Castle Basement**

  
  


A small contingent of armed settlers made for a door in the basement. “You sure you heard something, Scars?” one of them whispered.

“Yeah.” Another settler, a man with a slight limp and a burn-scarred right arm and face , nodded. “Used to work down here--I know all the entrances and exits.” He indicated that the others should be quiet, and pointed to a couple of alcoves. The group split up and trained their guns on the door. The scarred man heard a soft beeping, and took seven steps back. The beeping stopped, and Scars dove behind a shipping crate right as the door was blown off its hinges and flew down the hall. Two squads of Black Tusk soldiers ran down the hall, and Scars waited until they passed to stand again. “Showtime!” he called out as he drew a large-caliber revolver with his left hand and fired a shot that exploded a grenadier’s ordnance pack. The settlers swarmed around him, yelling defiantly as they opened fire on the mercenaries. When the dust cleared, a UGV sat in the hallway, motionless and focused on a spot to its left..

“Watch the doorway,” Scars ordered in a burry drawl. “Greenie, Pink, help me see if anyone’s still breathing. The rest of you keep an eye on the doorway--see if you can find something to block it until we can get it re-secured.” The trio walked down the hall until they got to the tank. Scars nudged the vehicle with his good arm, and the tank started moving toward a door marked DOOK HUT (NO FAPPING). “If you’re in there,” Scars announced, “you better either be dead or takin’ a shit.”

A speaker on the tank crackled to life. “I surrender,” the tank’s operator announced. “I need to talk to Turtle.” After a moment, he added, “His mother asked me to get a message to him.”

One of the settlers with Scars, a short woman with green spiky hair, looked to her compatriots. “Who’s Turtle?” she asked.

“The Sheriff,” Scars drawled. “Turtle’s what the Case Blue folks call him.” He snorted. “Cover the door, you two.” The scarred settler opened the bathroom door with his left hand. A Black Tusk tech stood, hands in the air and his weapons on the ground. “Name,” Scars demanded.

“Artis,” the tech replied. “Artis Locklear. I’d shake hands, but this isn’t really the time for it. There’s another squad heading to this service entrance--” he nodded toward the open doorway down the hall. “They’re planning to bring chemical weapons in here and set them off.” Artis nodded down toward his left breast pocket. “Note’s in there.”

“For Sheriff Turtle?”

Artis nodded. “It’s in Choctaw, so reading it won’t do you much good unless you speak the language.” He stood silently, hands still over his head, as Scars fished out the note and opened it.

“Well I’ll see if I can stay alive long enough to get this to the Sheriff. You’re gonna stay in here. When it’s all over, you’ll either come out alive and be able to talk to your boy, or your buddies will come and put a bullet in ya for betraying them.” Scars moved Artis’ weapons out of the bathroom with a sweep of his right foot. “Search him for any surprises.” He looked back down the hall. “One of you come get these toys,” he called. “And mask up--according to this guy that we just nabbed, Black Tusk is gonna bring chemical weapons to the party.” Another settler trotted down and picked up the shotgun and pistol, then went back to helping his friends barricade the door. “Go help ‘em,” Scars said to his companions. “I’ll take this note upstairs.”

  
  


**LJ**

ISAC marked a pip on LJ’s HUD.  _ The settler I marked has a note for you from Mother. _

“Where’s Mom?” he asked as he barrelled through a hole that opened up in Black Tusk lines. The gates opened just enough for him to squeeze amid a hail of gunfire from the mercs.

_ She asked me-- _

“Not to tell me,” LJ grumbled as he took up a position on the walkway over 12th. He threw out his seeker mines and started peppering any mercs he could reach with bursts of SMG fire. “I know!”

_ Please let me finish, _ ISAC retorted.  _ As I was trying to tell you, Mother wanted to tell you herself--which is why I marked the person who has a note for you. _

“Fine, I’ll find then when we’re done--prep my Jammer please.”

_ Done. _

LJ tapped the face of his watch and held it as ISAC marked the range of his and several others’ EMP jammers. The pulses went off in sequence, and the oncoming Warhounds staggered.”

A voice came over LJ’s comms. “ANNA,” he heard his mother say, “your brother needs you.” The tone of her voice was calm, with an undertone that just screamed that there was an ugly surprise in store for someone.

_ Assuming direct control, _ ISAC advised his brother.  _ EMP upgrades applied. _ LJ and the agents reactivated their pulses and the Warhounds detonated, shocking nearby Black Tusk troops and shutting down their hardware.

“Turtle,” Cap radioed, “Now that some of the pressure’s off, I need you to haul ass downstairs--there’s a squad down there trying to hold off some Black Tusk who have chemical weapons on ‘em, likely DC-62. ISAC, can you mark the Service Area for him? Slider, Blackjack, I need you to spread out a bit so we get EMP coverage when those Razorbacks spit out their drones.”

_ Done. _

LJ hustled off the walkway and down to the courtyard. “On it,” he radioed. He ran into the Castle and down the path that ISAC laid out for him, fitting his CBRN mask as he went. The sounds of gunfire were already echoing through the stairwell as he flew down the stairs to the basement. He set off another EMP right before charging through the basement door with his shotgun at the ready. A settler fell in front of him thanks to a Black Tusk sniper who snapped off a shot that nailed him right between the eyes. LJ flung his seekers down the wide hallway. The explosive BBs skittered toward their targets, and another settler dressed in a red t-shirt and jeans yelled out “Fear the Turtle!” from his cover.

“Damn right!” LJ called back as he took up a firing position. The seekers sent most of the squad flying like ragdolls, but a hulking Tank came around the corner and started to sweep the hallway with fire from his belt-fed XM214 microgun. LJ got out his crossbow and loaded an explosive bolt into it before popping up to snap off a shot that planted itself right in the front of the gunner’s helmet. The bolt detonated after three seconds, shattering the gunner’s faceplate and staggering him for a brief instant. LJ reloaded, and fired another bolt that nailed the gunner in the forehead. The gunner staggered backwards again, falling for good when the bolt’s explosion reduced his head to gore and bone shards. LJ closed up his crossbow and got out his shotgun again, sweeping it across the hallway as he slowly advanced forward over bodies and rubble from destroyed crates and furniture. 

ISAC sent out a scanner pulse that marked four targets on either side of the open doorway, and LJ sent out his seekers one last time. He heard a yelp of surprise and charged out, rolling forward and firing two wide shots at a couple of Black Tusk troopers as he got into cover behind a dumpster.

“Coming to assist,” Kelso radioed as she came around the corner to drop two of the mercs with her AK-103. LJ rolled out to join her, and they dropped the remaining two Black Tusk soldiers as two explosions sounded from Jefferson Plaza and another nearby rooftop.

_ Razorbacks disabled, _ ISAC quipped with as much glee that he could muster.  _ Intercepting Black Tusk communications. _

“Goddammit!” Schaeffer growled. “How the fuck did they blow up those Razorbacks?! Fuckin’ Division. Anyone left, retreat--this operation is a bust.”

“Nobody left  _ to _ retreat,” LJ retorted. “You rancid potato salad.”

“Miserable little sonofa…” After a moment’s pause Schaeffer snapped, “this isn’t over,  _ Ellis _ .”

LJ laughed in response. “That’s  _ Collier _ -Ellis. Get it right, wankstain!” He closed his comms, and Cap came over the line.

“It’s over,” the operative said. “Let’s tend our wounded and mourn our dead. Turtle, can you and Kelso check that squad you just tore up? We need to relieve them of any nasties they were carrying.”

Kelso knelt over a downed grenadier and started digging through his ordnance pouch. “Holy shit…” She gingerly held up a grenade marked with green-and-black bands. “This isn’t DC-62...it’s VX.”

“Oh fuck me…” LJ dug through a medic’s kit and drew out a pouch of wrapped syringes. “Atropine.” He looked over at Kelso, eyes wide. “This is very, very bad. ISAC, have Manny get a hazmat team here immediately.” He keyed his comms. “Cap, we need to keep everyone away from the basement and the back of the building.”

“Shit--do we have a DC-62 leak?”

Kelso chimed in. “It’s much worse than that; Black Tusk has nerve agents in play now.”

After a couple moments, Cap asked “Did they have a medic back there?”

LJ nodded. “Yeah--he had Atropine shots on him.” He counted the syringes. “About 25 of them. ISAC’s getting a JTF hazmat team over here from the White House to secure everything for incineration.”

“Good. Kelso, I need to grab your sidekick--can you handle the transfer of those little war crimes to the hazmat team?”

“Yeah.” LJ handed the syringes to Kelso, who patted him on the shoulder and nodded. “Heading out front now, Cap.” He made his way through the Castle to the courtyard, where he found Cap talking to a man in a Black Tusk tech’s uniform. “The fuck?” he asked as he reached for his shotgun.

“Stand down Turtle!” Cap stepped in front of him. “He surrendered to us.” He waited until LJ had his hands free and crossed his arms before stepping away.

“Your mom sent me,” the tech said. “Name’s Artis Locklear--I was one of her students when she taught at NCSU.” He nudged the gear at his feet. “And you can officially consider me resigned from The Black Tusk, as of the second I got here.”

“This young man was locked in the bathroom downstairs,” Cap explained. “Scars and the squad who went down there found him, with this note for you.” He handed the single-folded piece of paper to LJ, who opened it to see his mother’s handwriting.

_ Son, _ the note read in Chahta,  _ we’re at Camp White Oak. First things first: go give Schaeffer a righteous beatdown before you think about coming to get us. _

_ We love you. _

“Well then.” LJ took a deep breath and tore off a tiny piece of the note with his teeth. “Huh,” he remarked as he tasted cellulose. “No sugar sheet this time.” He took another look at Artis. “OK, we’re gonna have to take you back to the White House--after you help these good people clean up the mess that your now-former employers made.” LJ looked over to Cap. “He’s yours for right now, Steve. Soon as you’re done here, let Manny know and Kelso and I will come take custody of him.”

Artis said, “Schaeffer ordered me specifically to come along on this assault, but not anyone else guarding your parents. I think he finally cottoned to the fact that I wasn’t exactly following the company rules anymore.” He gave LJ a meaningful look. “Doc told me that you’d be champing at the bit to go get her and the President. I know you have exactly no reason to trust me, but respectfully? I recommend making Schaeffer your priority right now. If he gets away, he won’t hesitate to kill  _ both _ your parents and pin it on Case Blue.”

“So to save them, I have to stomp a cockroach.”

Artis nodded. “Yeah. Doc didn’t give me details, but from what she did tell me you’ve got a pretty personal reason for wanting his ass taken out of the picture.”

“Fair point,” LJ replied. “Okay Artis--I’ll head back to the House and get ready to go after Schaeffer himself. Behave, okay?”

Artis nodded, and Cap shepherded him off to assist with a salvage detail as LJ left for the White House.

_ How are you feeling? _ ISAC asked.

“Honestly ISAC,” he replied, “I kinda wish teleportation was a thing right now--I’d go to wherever Schaeffer is right this second, and I’d stomp his ass flat.”


	22. Bug Hunt: Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LJ and Schaeffer have their showdown.

**Coney Island Amusement Park** **  
** **2 Months after Keener’s death**

  
  
  


LJ let out a heavy sigh as the dinghy approached the shore. “Never thought I’d be back here,” he said. He felt a hand patting him on his shoulder, and looked back to the reedy blonde man steering the dinghy. The man was wearing Case Blue equipment and had his hair tied back in a short ponytail.

“It’ll be okay Turtle,” the operative reassured him. “You’ve got Kelso watching from the air.” The dinghy slid up onto the sand of the island, and LJ hopped out.

“I appreciate the lift, Deerstalker.” LJ smiled. “I’ll throw up a flare when I’m ready to head back.” He hefted his pack and checked his weapons. “Be safe.”

His escort nodded. “Will do--if I see anything unpleasant heading your way, I’ll give you a heads-up.” He keyed his comms, “Kelso, you reading me?”

“Loud and clear,” Kelso replied. “You’ve got some Red-band Rikers waiting for you in the park, LJ--and keep an eye out for that Hunter. We still don’t know if he’s going after you or Schaeffer.”

LJ nodded. “Gotcha. ISAC, you ready?”

_ Absolutely. _

He walked through the entrance of the park, and ISAC sent out a scan pulse that highlighted several people in the arcade. After ducking to the side of one of the double doors, LJ slowly opened the other door. He sneaked in and got to cover behind one of the seating area dividers.

_ Incoming transmission. _

“LJ, this is Dragov. I’ve got some people from the Tower scouting around the amusement park--Schaeffer’s camped out at the old roller coaster, but you’ve got a bunch of Red Rikers and a Hunter between the two of you. There’s also somebody else lurking, but we can’t get an ID on them.”

“So exercise caution,” LJ whispered. “Got it.” He tossed out his seeker mine and followed it up with a couple of bursts from his SMG as soon as he heard the munitions detonate. He heard running footsteps and popped up to drop an onrushing shotgunner, then swept his SMG across the room. No Rikers remained. He knelt to feel the shotgunner’s throat for a pulse. “Hey Dragov,” he radioed, “I’ve got one here that’s still alive, but just. Can you get somebody here to take them to the Tower?”

“I got ‘em.” Grimm’s voice came over the comms. “If you find anyone still breathing, mark ‘em for medevac.”

“Got it.” LJ switched to his shotgun and headed out of the arcade as red-band Rikers argued about whether or not there was somebody in the park with them. Those arguments were silenced by tortured and dying screams, and LJ grimaced. The Hunters were operators with hacked SHD tech. They hunted anyone with a SmartWatch regardless of the ring’s colour, and had a reputation for murdering agents, rogues, and operatives alike in gruesome ways before taking their watches as trophies. “Be careful, Grimmy.”

“You should be even more careful--this Hunter’s got some blue watches.”

LJ cursed under his breath. “Roger that.” He shuddered as he remembered the agents he found trussed up and eviscerated at the Emergency Bunker in DC. They had been stripped of their watches and displayed almost as a taunt.

_ You okay? Your adrenaline and cortisol just spiked. _

“Yeah, ISAC. Just had an unpleasant memory come up is all.”

_ The bunker? _

“Yeah.” He scanned the park. “Really it wasn’t unpleasant--horrifying is more like it.”

_ Mother had much the same reaction when she found them. _

“I can imagine.” LJ moved on toward the haunted house. He slowly opened the door and crept inside, shotgun at the ready. Recorded shrieks were interspersed with the screams of Rikers. LJ felt his heart almost beating out of his chest, and took three slow deep breaths to calm himself. “Focus on the target,” he whispered. “Don’t make yourself a target.”

_ Do you want me to give you a microdose tranquilizer? _

“No, thank you.” LJ trained his shotgun forward, sweeping to the sides as he advanced into the haunted house. "Don't want any potential issues."

_ Understood. _ The AI detected distortions in the area’s local electromagnetic field, and compensated for them.  _ Hunter is in the immediate area, _ he whispered in LJ’s ear. A pip appeared over a plinth in the middle of the room LJ had just entered. The “corpse” on the plinth sat up--it was the Hunter, festooned with numerous orange watches. Two blue watches adorned the Hunter’s wrists in a grim parody of Case Blue, and they were wearing a gold skull-face mask. LJ stroked the trigger of his SASG-12, and a slug pinged off of one of the orange watches right before the Hunter vanished in a puff of smoke.  _ He’s leaving--take a moment. You need to take a moment. _

“No I don’t.”

_ Yes, you do. Your heartrate is at over 110 bpm and your adrenaline is spiked higher than it has been since the DC Bunker. That, and I need to apply a patch from Mother. _

LJ found a corner and hunkered down, shotgun at the ready. “When did she push out a patch?”

_ Five minutes ago. The Haunted House is clear, by the way. _

LJ got up and took a deep breath. He proceeded through the attraction to the same maintenance room where Keener had left a snarky little message for his Black Tusk “handler” months ago. A laptop stood open next to an orange supply crate. LJ stabbed at a key on the laptop, and a lock screen came up showing a wolf’s head. “ISAC, can you hack this?”

_ Working…and done. Crate is unlocked. No traps, but there is some tech in there that is not familiar to me. _

LJ opened the crate, and peeked in to see what looked like a modified shock trap. He pulled it out, and ISAC scanned it.

“I’d heard about these,” Kelso said on comms. “A shrapnel trap. That would explain how a lot of the Hunters’ victims have wounds that look like they came from frag grenades even though there weren’t any grenade bits found near them.”

_ I have its schematics ready, if you decide to use it. It is a bit low-powered though--I think it is intended to herd its target where the user wants them to go, rather than to cause serious damage. _

“Right. I think I’ll hold off on it for now.” LJ disassembled the prototype and stowed the parts in his backpack.

_ Black Tusk communications intercepted, _ ISAC advised.  _ You may find this interesting. _

“Okay,” Schaeffer said. His voice was full of annoyance. “Enough games. Back off those blue-boys and finish this.”

A mechanically obscured voice responded with something unintelligible, and LJ felt his blood run cold.

“Atta boy.”

“Oh fuck,” Kelso said. “Black Tusk is working with the Hunters?”

_ I do not want to think about that, _ ISAC said.  _ The idea is making  _ _ me _ _ feel sick, and I am not even possessed of a stomach. _

LJ slumped against the wall. “Grimmy,” he radioed, “you still with us?”

“Barely,” the operative replied through heavy distortion. “That Hunter was fucking with me and my medevac squad, but after his convo with Schaeffer he’s backed off.”

“I hate to ask you to do this Grimmy, but get to Deerstalker and get your asses off this island immediately. Please.” LJ’s voice was shaking--he couldn’t decide if it was with fear or rage.

After several long seconds, ISAC superimposed a small view of Grimm and her squad heading for the dinghy on the beach.

“Thank you,” LJ said. “I don’t want to have to tell Mom she lost another friend.”

“And I don’t want to have to tell her that she lost a son,” Grimm replied. “Be careful.”

LJ closed his eyes for a second and let out a deep exhale. “I’ll do my best.”

_ We all lift together, _ ISAC said over the comms.  _ I'll do my best to keep him alive. _

Grimm laughed. “Thank you ISAC. That actually makes me feel better.”

LJ slowly stood. He blinked a few times, and checked the mag on his SASG. “OK,” he said softly. “Let’s do this.” He slowly opened the exit from the haunted house’s maintenance room, and his eyes re-adjusted to the late-afternoon sun. 

ISAC marked a pip on his HUD.  _ Trap, _ he commented. 

“Thanks.”LJ stepped over the mutilated bodies of Black Tusk troopers and Red Rikers alike. He heard a wheezing gasp, and glanced over to see a Red lying behind an overturned popcorn cart. He had a hand over his abdomen as if holding something in place. LJ paused, and crept over to the Riker. “Hey,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips. He tapped his watch, and ISAC scanned the gangster. He had his bandana against his abdomen, and LJ saw blood seeping out of the bandana through the gangster's fingers.

_ Vital signs critical, but you can stabilize him. _

LJ smiled a bit and pulled an emergency medkit from a pocket on his left leg. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m gonna stabilize you and have somebody come get you to safety.” He opened the kit and took out a syringe. “This is a clotting factor,” he explained softly. “I’m gonna stick you right by your gash to help stop the bleeding, and then take that bandana out so I can dress you okay?” The Red nodded slowly. “Call me Turtle,” LJ said as he wiped the injection site with an alcohol pad and injected the clotting factor. He silently counted to thirty as he got out a medicated dressing and some gauze pads to use as sponges, then removed the bandana. The Hunter had gashed the Red’s abdomen open, but a layer of yellowish white fat told LJ that the Hunter's axe didn’t get to anything major. The agent sponged up the blood that still seeped out from the clotting wound, and applied the dressing. “Stay here and stay quiet,” he whispered. “I’m going to go kill the guy that did this to you, and some friends will get you to the Tower Clinic.” The Red nodded again and mouthed _thank you_.

_ He's very lucky, _ ISAC whispered.  _ It looks like the Hunter did not see him to finish him off. _

“Yeah,” LJ replied softly. “Ready when you are.” He swapped his shotgun out to his SMG, and headed toward the carousels. His HUD started to distort, a sign that the Hunter was nearby. He saw a brief flash, but his HUD didn’t vanish like it normally would. He felt a crackle of static over his skin for a moment.

_ Jammer pulse activating, _ ISAC said. A blue haze expanded to fill the space, and then lightning jumped from a couple of power stations to shock someone. The Hunter flew several feet back into one of the ticket booths.  _ Go! _

LJ jumped out and fired a burst at the Hunter, following it up with his seeker mine. The BBs rolled toward the still-staggered killer and detonated, causing him to stumble backward. LJ raked him with SMG fire as he dove behind a barrier and switched to his shotgun.

_ Hunter's attempting to hijack my systems, _ ISAC remarked.  _ And...his access is now blocked. _

An electronic roar of anger came from the Hunter, who dropped a smokebomb. ISAC sent out a scan pulse to highlight him on LJ’s HUD, and the agent-slash-operative quickly took out his crossbow. He fired a bolt that hit the Hunter in the left shoulder and detonated, sending the Hunter flying several feet to his right in a spray of blood, armour bits, and bone. LJ followed it up with another bolt that hit the Hunter in the knee. The bolt detonated, and LJ dodged a flying foot as he ran up on the Hunter, shotgun at the ready. He reached down and tore off the Hunter’s mask. The Hunter lay there grinning up at LJ.

“You win,” the Hunter rasped, laughing hoarsely as he bled out. “This time.” He exhaled one last time, and LJ knelt to remove the trophy watches from the Hunter’s bandoliers and right wrist. ISAC highlighted a watch several feet away on the Hunter’s severed left arm. LJ went over to retrieve it.

_ Amos, _ ISAC said softly as he scanned the watch.  _ He was one of the Case Blue operatives that saved your life in Battery Park. _

LJ clasped the watch to his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered before putting it in a pouch on his utility belt and standing.

_ Intercepting Black Tusk communications. _

“Schaeffer,” a woman’s voice said.

“The line isn’t secure ma’am,” Schaeffer replied.

“I don’t care. Is the Hunter still in play?”

Schaeffer sighed heavily over his comms. “No,” he said. “No he is not, Miss Sokolova.”

LJ gathered a blood sample from the Hunter’s body and collected the contact lenses from his eyes, putting the lenses in a spare carrying case with some saline.

“Well then,” the woman said, “I suppose that it’s up to you and your remaining Black Tusk Special Unit to get the job done.”

“We’re ready, Natalya.” Schaeffer closed his comms.

“Who the hell is Natalya Sokolova?” Kelso asked. “What kind of shady op is Schaeffer running?”

LJ let out a heavy exhale through his nose. “We can discuss that later,” he replied. “The Hunter’s down--I’ve secured his “trophies” for us.” He put away his crossbow and got out his SMG again. “Time to go stomp a cockroach,” he snarled. He strode past the carousels toward the coaster. ISAC highlighted several waiting targets as Schaeffer opened his comms again.

“Get ready,” he said. “The Division is heading this way, and it’s the Chief’s kid--which means that we can’t rely on the grunts to get the job done.”

“Time for some Turtle soup!” a British-accented voice came over the comms, followed by several other laughing voices.

“He’ll be nothing but roadkill when we’re done with him!” another voice said. More laughed. LJ rolled his eyes.

_ They think they’re funny, don’t they? _

“We’ll get the last laugh,” LJ replied. “Fuckin’ mercs.” He walked around a corner and flung out his seeker mines right before he blasted a very surprised trooper in the face with his shotgun. He scurried around another corner and ducked into a ball game booth, then flung his seekers again. After thirty seconds he hopped out of his cover and swung around with shotgun at the ready. Nothing.

“You’ve got a clear run to the coaster,” Kelso radioed. “Kick Schaeffer’s ass.”

“I fully intend to,” LJ replied. A heavy silence hung over the park as LJ strode up the ramp. He jumped down to stand before a couple of sheets of steel that barred his entry to the coaster area.

“Come on  _ Collier _ -Ellis,” Schaeffer called out impatiently. “I don’t have all day.” 

_ Cave Testudo, _ ISAC said to his brother.

LJ cracked a slight smirk and delivered a mighty kick to the steel barrier in front of him. The plates fell forward, hitting the ground with a loud crash. He and Schaeffer stared at each other for several long seconds as ISAC sent out a scan pulse. Several small pips appeared, marking BTSU soldiers taking up positions to LJ’s left. ISAC flashed one of the pips and whispered  _ Sniper taking aim at you. _

“Finally,” Schaeffer said as he cocked his assault rifle. “We meet face to face. You’ve been a serious pain in my ass for a long time, young man. But now, I intend to relieve that pain for good.”

_ Now! _

LJ flung his seeker mine off to his left with a casual motion of his right hand and quickly rolled to cover right before a .50 caliber round whizzed through the space where his head had been. He swapped to his crossbow and snapped off a shot that impacted in front of the sniper before detonating, then ducked back into cover and switched back to his SMG. 

“I don’t know who’s more annoying, LJ, you or that mother of yours.”

He peeked around the side as ISAC highlighted a grenadier’s ordnance pouch. He quickly drew his Magnum and fired two shots that struck the pouch, detonating the explosives inside.

“You walked right into my trap,” Schaeffer called out to LJ. “Like a complete moron--but what can you expect from a turtle-loving rockhound?”

“That’s it. ISAC, open a comm to this derpsack.”

_ Done. _

“I’m not the one who got cashiered for taking the Army/Navy rivalry too far,” LJ shot back. He raised his shotgun as a BTSU trooper came toward him, and fired off two slugs at point-blank range before scrambling to another cover spot and throwing out his seekers again. “Jackwagon.”

“So you know about Kandahar then,” Schaeffer retorted with a laugh. “Let me guess--Mommy sent you the unredacted report.” The merc flung a grenade toward LJ, who rolled behind a fallen section of coaster as the projectile exploded. “What the hell is your malfunction, anyway? Why can’t you just die, you goddamn bullet sponge?!”

LJ felt multiple impacts and grunted a bit before jumping up to rake a couple of Schaeffer’s underlings with SMG fire. “You got me once,” he snarked. “You don’t get a second chance.”

“What we have here,” Schaeffer drawled as LJ traded shots with another BTSU mook, “is a failure to communicate. You think you’re the hero, but  **I’m** the one trying to save our country.”

_ Jammer ready. _

“This country died months ago, dumbass!” LJ tapped and held his watch, setting off an EMP right as a Medic sent up his AED drone and a Warhound clambered over some wreckage onto the battlefield. “I’m trying to shield the people from assclowns like you so they can rebuild!” The Warhound detonated immediately, spraying everyone around it with shrapnel. ISAC scanned the battlefield one last time.

_ Just the two of you, _ the AI told him.

LJ stepped out, shotgun readied. “The halftime show is over,” he called out. “Bring it, or go jump off a cliff.”

“You’re done,” Schaeffer called back. He stood and trained his assault rifle on LJ. “And you’re delusional if you think that the Division even stood a chance.”

LJ snorted. “Yeah, I’m done arguing with a piss-ass penny-ante merc like you.” He hefted his shotgun and prepared to fire when the merc was suddenly knocked forward by two impacts. On his comms, LJ heard a South Boston accent repeating a familiar phrase:

“Mother sends her regards.”

LJ dove to cover. “ISAC,” he asked, “where’d those shots come from?”

_ Top of the wreckage. _

LJ looked up and saw somebody stand against the setting sun and deliver a casual salute before disappearing amid a cloud of smoke. He looked back down to see Schaeffer trying to stand, and ran over to him. Before the merc could react, LJ grabbed him and delivered a savage headbutt that dropped him again. “I said I was done arguing with you,” he snarked.

_ He’ll live, _ ISAC said.

“Grimm and her team are moving in to get Schaeffer,” Kelso radioed. “Without him, Black Tusk will be less of a threat--but we still have the people that Schaeffer recruited to deal with. We’ll see you when you get back to the House.”

LJ nodded and sighed. He pulled out Amos’ watch again and looked at it. “Did he have any family?”

_ Ex-wife. Still alive and living in Chicago. According to his psych profile they were still friendly.  _

“Gotcha.” He sighed heavily. “Let Mom know about Schaeffer.”

_ Already done. Chopper inbound to take you home. _

“Thanks.” LJ rubbed his face with his hand and sighed again as he saw the JTF chopper coming in from the direction of Newark to take him back to DC.


	23. Fallen Oak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faye Lau resurfaces, with potentially tragic consequences for the Collier-Ellis family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basing this off of some datamined stuff that was posted to the Division reddit a couple months ago--it's not the least teensy bit canonical, as UbiMassive has stated that the datamine was not an accurate prediction of what will happen in-game.
> 
> And there's also a sidelong Kill Bill reference, because I like the movie even though Quentin Tarantino is a garbage human being.
> 
> 1 March 2021: I went back and rewrote this chapter after finally playing through the Lau manhunt and seeing that, sadly, the dataminers turned out to in fact be correct about the fate of President Ellis.

**Camp White Oak, Lake House** **  
** **Three months after Keener’s death**

  
  


“Amanda,” Andrew snapped, “you’re seven and a half months pregnant! There’s no fucking way I’m going to greenlight you being put in the line of fire!”

The First Lady of the United States snorted. “You know goddamn good and well that I’m quite capable of taking care of myself Andrew,” she said calmly as she fiddled with her oversized DC Daggers t-shirt. “I’m going to this meet with you, and that’s final.” She gave her husband a look. “Besides, I don’t trust Faye Lau in the least--if she tries anything when she comes to meet with you, I want to be there.”

Andrew smacked his face with his palm. “And what are you going to do?!” Before he could react, Amanda reached over to snatch the mint sprig from his dish of stewed fruit. She popped the sprig into her mouth and chewed on it for a couple of seconds.

“I’ll take her good eye,” she replied, leaning in to give her husband a minty kiss. “And then I’ll shoot her, since we don’t have any venomous snakes that I can lock her up with.” She chewed the mint some more. “Huh, thought I’d used spearmint instead of peppermint. Oh well.”

“You’re impossible,” Andrew retorted.

“And it’s why you married me,” Amanda joked, waggling her eyebrows impishly. She smiled and then took a drink from her water. “In any event--even though I’m pregnant, I’m still a doctor. I’m  _ your _ doctor, specifically, and as such I want to be in a position to provide emergent care if Lau gets any ideas about trying to pen you in next to Larry Waller and Tom Mendez in the Presidential dead-book.”

Andrew sighed and dug his spoon into his dessert. “Fine. I’m sure there’s some body armour somewhere that can fit you.” He popped a spoonful of brandy-soaked pear into his mouth, and put his left hand on Amanda’s belly. He felt movement, and smiled as he chewed and swallowed. “You may be able to hold a gun,” he remarked, “but the little one can’t.”

“Yet.” Amanda winked. A readout scrolled up the right side of her HUD with the latest readings from the nanites in her body. “Have you heard anything from Site R?”

“Not since our Mr. Schaeffer got taken down by the Division.” Andrew reached up and gently tugged on his right earlobe then raised an eyebrow. He saw Amanda’s eyes take on a faint bluish cast for a moment, and waited for her to nod before speaking again. “I’ve tried to get through, but...nothing.”

Amanda knocked on the oak table. “Hopefully nothing bad’s happened.”

_ I’m contacting Initiative assets in the area of Site R to request reconnaissance, _ ISAC whispered.

“In other news,” Amanda said, “I’m sorry that I waited until the last second to give you the unredacted Kandahar report.”

Andrew shrugged, “It was a smart move,” he said as he finished off the last of his dessert. “I’d have shot Schaeffer myself, if I’d received it while he was within my figurative reach.” He dropped the spoon back in the dish with a slight clatter. “But that’s nothing compared to how John will react.”

“This is true.” Amanda leaned over and kissed Andrew again. “So how was everything? It’s been a while since I’ve been able to make a from-scratch dinner for the both of us.”

“It was perfect,” Andrew replied with a smile. “And I mean that--it reminds me of the first time you invited me to dinner at your house.”

Amanda laughed. “You mean the night you found out that Dad was the Academy Superintendent?” She stood and cleared away the dishes. “The look on your face when we walked up to the front door was priceless--Mom said that’s when she knew I’d found a keeper.” She put the dishes and flatware in the sink and got out some dish soap and a sponge before turning on the water. 

“Your mother wasn’t the one I was worried about,” he said softly as he embraced her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder. “I worry about you,” he whispered. “Especially now.”

Amanda set the sponge down at the back of the sink and turned to face her husband. “That’s why I’m here,” she replied. “That and,” she remarked as she put her hands on his waist, “I feel that I should point out that we make a great team.”

“My campaigns for the House proved that, that’s for sure.” Andrew kissed his wife. “Even though we’re married again, I’m still kicking myself for having entertained the idea of letting you go in the first place.”

Amanda took her husband’s hand and led him to the couch in front of the Lodge’s fireplace. “We’re here  _ now _ ,” she said as they sat down next to each other. “And we were always there for each other and for LJ. That’s what matters most.” They embraced and watched the fire.

_ Patching in Initiative communication. _

“We’re on-site,” LJ said in her ear. “Kelso, you said that Lau’s taking a chopper in to meet with Facetank?”

“Yeah. Just remember that we’re not cleared to secure Facetank or Doc yet--so just focus on Lau.”

One of the guards, a hulking Tank, trundled in from outside the cabin with his minigun pointed down at the floor. “Mister President,” the big trooper said, “Agent Lau is on her way up here for your meeting.” Another group of soldiers came in. “We’re your protective detail,” the medic in the group said as he came to stand near Amanda.

Andrew and Amanda both stood from the couch. “Well then,” Andrew said, “I suppose it’s time for work.” He walked over to the cabin’s office area, and Amanda started to follow him when the medic grabbed her arm.

“I’m his physician,” Amanda told the medic. She disengaged herself from his grip. “I’m going with him.”

“Orders from the boss,” the Tank told her. “We’ve heard that the Division’s going to try crashing this party, and our orders are to make sure that you’re out of danger.”

Amanda snorted. “Fuck your boss,” she snapped, “ _ Merc. _ I’m not about to let my husband be alone within a mile of that woman.” The medic grabbed her arm again, more firmly this time, and Amanda heard the soft pop of a syringe cover being removed. Before he could react, Amanda lashed out with her free hand to grab the hypodermic he’d prepped to stick her with. She glared at the medic, who still had the needle’s cover between his teeth, and yanked herself from his grasp. “Do  _ not _ test me,” she hissed as she flung the syringe against the stone fireplace, shattering it as the cabin’s front door opened. “Pregnant or no, my place is with my husband.  _ Period _ .”

“Well, I see the First Lady is in her usual fine form.”

Amanda looked back over her shoulder to see Faye Lau striding into the Lake House, and rolled her eyes. “Hello, Miss Lau.”

_ I’ve let my brother know that she’s here, _ ISAC whispered.  _ She’s still unpleasant. _

“Lau’s meeting with Facetank now,” LJ said over his comms. “Doc is with him.”

_ Be careful, _ ISAC whispered.  _ I love you both. _

Amanda smiled a bit as she looked at Andrew. “Love you,” she whispered. Andrew flashed her a smile and straightened his striped tie and eagle tie pin as Lau walked into the office. The rogue agent nodded toward the exterior of the Lake House, and the Black Tusk squad filtered out.

“Mister President,” Lau greeted him. “Doctor Collier.”

“Agent Lau,” Andrew said, “I’ve heard many good things about you.” He sat back in his chair a bit. “We have a lot of work to do--I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Lau smirked a bit. “I wish I could say the same about you, Mister President, but of course you can’t believe everything you hear.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“Be careful Turtle,” Amanda heard Kelso whisper over the comms. “We don’t want to get Facetank or Doc killed.”

“Questions have been raised about your devotion to this country,” Lau said. “That you may be siding with the Division.” She looked at Amanda, who sat expressionless near the President’s desk. “After all, your son is a Division agent.” When Amanda didn’t react, Lau looked back to the President.

Andrew chuckled. “If you’re trying to get a rise out of my wife, I suspect you’ll need to work a bit harder.” He leaned forward as Amanda took his hand. “But you came to speak to me, not to my First Lady. So I’d like to know what your intentions are.” He saw Lau walk toward the front of the Lake House, and heard sporadic gunfire in the distance. “What’s going on?”

“Hostiles approaching the Lake House!” The tank looked back at Lau. “I’ll handle the hostiles; Lau, you take care of the President and First Lady!”

Lau smirked. “Oh, I will.” She turned back to the First Couple, tapped her watch, and Amanda felt her head swim as her connection to ISAC was disrupted. Through a wave of delirium she saw Lau reach for her sidearm, and the First Lady yanked Andrew out of his seat as the one-eyed rogue agent fired a shot that hit him in the chest.

“Amanda!” Andrew grabbed his chest and fell to the floor.

Lau sprinted out of the Lake House, crashing through the sliding glass doors. Amanda leapt from her seat and grabbed her bugout-bag from where she kept it under the desk, and yanked out the trauma kit as LJ came running into the house.

“Mom! Dad!”

Amanda looked up from the desk. “Over here!” LJ ran to the desk and dropped to his knees next to his father, and Amanda grabbed his shotgun. “Tend your father--I’ll take care of Lau.”

“Mom, I--”

_ “Do it.” _ Amanda cocked the slide on the shotgun. “Faye Lau’s ass is mine.”

LJ whipped off his body armour and tossed it to his mother, who nodded and slid it on before running barefoot out of the Lake House. “Wear that at least,” he told her before turning back to the President. “ _ Aki _ ,” he said, “I’m here.” He grabbed two tampons and a syringe of clotting factors from the trauma kit, and dropped his hive next to his father. “ISAC’s here too.” Andrew reached up to his son with a bloodied hand, and LJ smiled a bit. “We’ve got you.”

“Son…”

LJ unwrapped the tampons and shoved them into the bullet wound in his father’s chest. They expanded to plug the hole, and LJ slid the needle into Andrew’s arm. “It’ll be okay Dad. ISAC and I are here. Kelso, that case we got from the house in Eastport?”

“Yeah?”

“Get it out and have it ready. Torres, be ready to get the fuck out of here ASAP and tell Dr. Summers to be ready to get my Dad into surgery the second we land at the House. ISAC, where’s Mom?”

_ Chasing Faye Lau to the helipad. Kelso had reinforcements on standby at a nearby settlement just in case. they’re en route, ETA two minutes. Focus on Father, Kelso will give Mother backup when she arrives with reinforcements. _

Amanda ran down the path toward the Holly Lodge and the helipad, shotgun at the ready when she heard Faye Lau’s voice over the compound’s PA system.

“Attention, Black Tusk Soldiers at Camp White Oak. Division Agents have assassinated President Ellis, with the help of the First Lady. Our mandate is clear: we must do everything we can to bring the President’s killers to justice and fulfill our mission.”

“ _ Liar!” _ Amanda roared. She levelled her son’s shotgun at a couple of Black Tusk rushers that approached her. “He’s alive! Out of my way!” She kept running down the path, leaving bloody footprints in the dirt. A grenadier stepped in front of her and leveled his launcher, only to be cross-checked in the face as Amanda charged on ahead. “ISAC,” she bellowed, “do whatever you need to to keep Lau from taking off!”

“Access granted,” ANNA intoned over Amanda’s earpiece. “Administrator rights granted. Welcome ISAC.”

_ Here goes nothing, _ ISAC said. A herd of Warhounds and Minitanks abandoned their controllers and high-tailed it toward the helipad to train their guns on Marine One. The helicopter's rotors disintegrated in a hail of gunfire and grenades before falling back toward their handlers and going into standby mode. Amanda charged up the wood-paved path to the Holly Lodge, shouldering her way through a crowd of very surprised mercenaries. She tripped and rolled forward on the gravel, then hustled up the stairs to kick in the door. 

Faye Lau stood defiantly in the middle of the living room, SMG levelled at the First Lady. She glared at Amanda. “He’s alive, isn’t he?” She tapped her watch, and Amanda was hit by another wave of dizziness as her HUD was disrupted again. She dropped the shotgun on the floor, and Lau took a step forward to try kicking it away. “He won’t be when I get back to that house--as for you…” 

Amanda rolled forward and grabbed Lau’s leg, then rolled to the right to yank the rogue agent off her feet. The fuzz slowly cleared from her head as the sounds of gunfire erupted from the yard outside the Lodge. The pair wrestled, and Lau delivered a solid punch to Amanda’s armored stomach before squirming out of her grasp and turning to run toward the back door of the lodge. Amanda rolled to her feet, teeth gritted through the pain, and grabbed the heavy candle from the center of the coffee table. She hurled the candle at Lau and nailed her in the center of her back. The impact made Lau stagger, and Amanda launched herself at the rogue again.

Outside, three squads of JTF troops led by Kelso and two other Initiative operatives swarmed up the path to the Lodge. The Warhounds and Minitanks that ISAC hijacked earlier woke up to surround their former handlers. The mercenaries dropped their weapons as the mechs primed their ordnance in their direction, and Kelso ran up the steps and barrelled into the Holly Lodge just in time to see Amanda Collier and Faye Lau go crashing through the back door onto the deck.

Lau landed face-first on the deck. The added weight on her back added enough force to knock the wind out of her, and Amanda rolled off of her back and to her feet to grab the dazed Rogue. Amanda yanked Lau off her feet and slammed her back against the railing. 

“You asshole!” Amanda punched Lau in the face. “You tried to get my son killed in New York! You lied to and betrayed  _ everyone _ who trusted you, and tried to murder my husband, for what?!”

“I did what had to be done,” Lau spat. “The Division’s lost its way, lost its mission--but  _ I _ am the one who stayed on-mission! You wear that Watch, but you’re nothing but a tr--” Her words were cut off by another punch. Blood filled her mouth, and she felt a few of her teeth wobble in their sockets.

“ _ Fuck you! _ ” Amanda roared the words. “You ruined  _ months _ of planning--my husband was about to be brought in to bring down the Black Tusk and their cronies!”

Lau shoved Amanda back. “You’ve been deluded by ISAC and its bullshit,” she snapped. “Your son is just a mindless drone following direc--” Amanda roared with anger and punched Lau in the throat. The punch dropped the rogue agent to her knees and left her gasping for air. Amanda picked Lau up and held her by her shirtfront as she pulled back to deliver another blow.

“Mandy!” Kelso walked forward with her assault rifle trained on Faye Lau. “It’s over.” She took another step toward Amanda, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Torres is coming to get you now, and she’ll take you and the President back to DC. We’ll take Faye into custody.”

Amanda set her jaw and glared at Lau. “Fine.” She let go of Lau’s shirtfront, then reared back and delivered a vicious headbutt. “Take her. Clap her in irons. Throw her in a goddamn hole, I don’t care,” Amanda growled, “just get her out of my sight.” She stalked down the steps onto the grass as Torres landed the chopper. The door opened, and Amanda clambered up, ignoring the pain in her bare feet. “Let’s go.” Andrew lay on a stretcher, unconscious and shirtless.

“He needs surgery,” LJ said. ISAC highlighted Amanda’s feet on LJ’s HUD, marking where shards of glass had embedded themselves. “Ah shit--Mom, your feet…” He reached into his backpack for a pair of tweezers and a small roll of electrical tape.

Amanda leaned over and kissed her husband on the forehead. She smoothed his hair and fought back tears. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered.

_ Mother, you’ve got glass embedded in your feet and you’re bleeding all over the place. Father is stable, but you need to get your feet tended to so you don’t risk infection. _

“Fine.” Amanda sighed and settled on her back on the floor so her older son could remove the glass from her feet. ISAC highlighted the shards for LJ, along with some pebbles that had wedged themselves in one of the deeper cuts.

_ You’re high on endorphins, _ ISAC told Amanda.  _ And there’s some residual adrenalin in your system as well. I’m sure you already know that. _

“It’s fine son,” Amanda said softly. “Thank you.” She smiled a bit and caressed the face of her Watch.

“We’re getting ready to land,” Torres advised. “Surgery’s prepped and waiting.”

LJ got out a bottle of water and opened it. He poured the water over his mother’s feet to quickly remove as much blood and dirt as possible before applying medicated dressings. “Here,” he said. He pulled a pair of black slip-on deck shoes from his backpack and gently tossed them to his mother. “I grabbed these on the way out.”

“Thanks.” Amanda put the shoes on and stood. She looked out the front windows of the chopper and saw the medics standing on the helipad. “Kelso’s got your shotgun,” she said over her shoulder as she opened the door. She leapt from the chopper before it settled on the pad and ran into the White House. “Where is it?” she asked.

_ Manny’s got it, _ ISAC said.  _ He’s waiting for you in the medical wing. _ ISAC marked the path on Amanda’s HUD.

Amanda ran up the stairs two at a time, almost slipping on the tiled floors in her haste to get to the White House’s sickbay. She grabbed both sides of the doorway to stop herself as she entered the sickbay, and saw a man with curly black hair holding a case. “Hi--Manny? I’m Mandy.”

“Here.” Manny held the case out to Amanda, and she took it.

“Thanks.” Amanda put the case on the table, bottom-up, and fished out the shield that Cap had given her before she left New York. She put the shield in the indentation on the bottom of the case, and it lit up.

_ Access granted, _ ISAC said.

Amanda turned the case over and thumbed the combination locks on the front of the case, then opened it with a hiss to reveal a small cooling system that cradled an IV bag with a straw-coloured fluid in it and a large capped syringe that held some pinkish-grey material. “Still good?”

_ Yes. _

“Good.” Amanda grabbed the items in the case and looked over to one of the medics, a red-haired young woman who carried herself like a Marine. “I need a line for this, stat!” The medic immediately grabbed a sealed pack from a case and handed it to Amanda, who opened it and fished out the IV line. She connected the line to the bag and used its inlet port to add the material from the syringe to the fluid. When the syringe was empty, Amanda double-checked the inlet and closed the port, then gently agitated the bag to distribute everything before setting it back on the table in a sterile tray. “Thank you,” she said. “Let me know the second my husband’s out of surgery, so I can administer this.”

She walked out of the medical bay to the hallway, and flopped down in a nearby chair. She felt something brush her leg, and looked down to see Admiral Halsey staring up at her. “Hey, chubby cat.” Amanda patted her lap, and Halsey hopped up to join her. “You’re going to be a big brother soon,” she whispered as the cat rubbed against her belly and purred. “I just hope Daddy gets to see the new arrival.”

“Mom?”

Amanda looked over to see LJ standing there. “Hey.”

LJ pulled up a chair and sat down next to his mother. “He in surgery?”

“Yeah.” Amanda sighed heavily. “I didn’t think you listened when I suggested that you put tampons in your trauma kit.”

“When Mom M.D. talks,” he quipped, “I listen.” He leaned into his mother. “You think he’ll make it?” 

Amanda put her arms around her son and kissed him on the head. “I think he will,” she whispered. “He’s a stubborn man, just like his kids.”

The two of them sat there with Halsey for several long minutes until Dr. Summers came out of the medbay. Amanda gently shooed the cat from her lap and stood. “Joshua,” she said. “It’s great to see you again--just wish it were under better circumstances.” The two shook hands and hugged. “How’s he doing?”

Joshua Summers took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s going to be dicey. You both did a good job stabilizing him and stanching the initial bleeding, but the damage was pretty severe and we’re keeping him unconscious for now. Lau used hollow-points on him, and one of the fragments is embedded in his T5--we’re leaving it there for now because of its proximity to his spinal cord, but…”

Amanda nodded as her brain went back into crisis mode. “I understand. There may be something I can do to help, but it’s a long shot.”

“Is it that bag you prepped earlier?” Amanda nodded, and Joshua gave a half-shrug. “I’ll take any shot I can get, Mandy. But to be honest, Drew’s gonna need a minor miracle.”

Amanda nodded. “All we can do is our best--the rest will have to be up to our patient.” She walked into the sickbay’s recovery area. The table she’d set up earlier sat next to Andrew’s bed, prepped and ready.

“His line is a two-fer,” the medic from earlier said. “I made sure to swap it as soon as he was out of surgery.”

“Thank you.” Amanda nodded. “I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier--what’s your name?”

“Trish,” the medic replied.

“Trish, thank you. Thank you very much.” Amanda gave her a slight smile as she picked up the bag. “I’m Mandy--or Doc, whichever you feel more comfortable with.” She attached the line from the bag to Andrew’s IV and hung the bag on a hook. She gave the bag a gentle squeeze and checked it for any settling before she opened the valve to let the pink-tinged solution flow down the line into her husband’s arm.

“What is that?” Trish asked.

Amanda reached over to stroke Andrew’s hair. “Something that I’d hoped I’d never have to use,” she replied softly. “May I sit with my husband for a while?” Trish nodded, and Amanda retrieved her chair from the hallway. She parked it next to Andrew’s bed, on the opposite side from his IV line. “Thank you again.”

LJ came in and stood by the bed. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” Amanda whispered with a nod. “ISAC, you able to get any readings?”

_ No. _

Amanda sighed and took Andrew’s right hand. “My love,” she whispered, “I’m so s--”

_ Wait. _

“What?” Amanda looked up.

_ Don’t let go of him yet. I’m able to get very faint signals through your Watch. _ Andrew shuddered a few times, and his jaw tensed. LJ looked around the bed to his Foley bag to see some urine flowing into it from his father’s catheter.  _ Calibration complete, _ ISAC said after another thirty seconds.  _ Let go of him now--I want to see if I can get a near-field signal. _ Amanda let go of her husband’s hand, and after another couple of minutes ISAC said  _ Connection established, but it’s very sporadic. If you get him a Watch, I should be able to amplify it enough to get reliable stats. _

Amanda leaned over and gave her unconscious husband a kiss. “I love you so much my handsome Marine,” she whispered. “I'll be right back.” She looked over to LJ. “Where’s the tech lab?”


	24. Open Channel D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit just got real.

**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Three days after Faye Lau’s capture**

  
  


Amanda replaced the back of the Watch and flipped it over, tapping the face to make it light up. She placed it on the stand in front of her. The ring around the watch face glowed bright blue, and after several seconds the time came up.

_ Calibrated, _ ISAC said. Amanda took the watch from the stand and hefted it in her hand.  _ Everything okay? _

“Yeah,” she answered. “Yeah. Just worried about your father.” She sighed. “Let’s get this on him,” she said.

_ You sound like you’re worried about something else. _

“Site R,” Amanda replied. “I find it disconcerting that nobody’s heard from them, especially because all non-Black Tusk personnel from Peterson got moved there at the same time your father and I were moved back to White Oak.”

_ Pittsburgh and Philadelphia conducted a joint mission to the site. _

“Get them on the line. While you do that, I’ll go put this on your father.” Amanda left the tech bay and went upstairs to the medical wing. Doctor Summers was listening to Andrew’s heart and checking his other vitals.

“What I wouldn’t give for some imaging hardware,” the doctor muttered to himself.

Amanda smiled a bit. “I may be able to arrange that,” she offered.

“You do that,” Summers chuckled, “and I’ll be convinced without a doubt that you’re a miracle-worker.” He saw the Watch in Amanda’s hand. “What’s that for?”

“What?” Amanda looked down. “Oh, this. It’s one of the spares. I modified it so ISAC could keep an eye on Andrew’s blood chemistry and brain activity. How’s he doing?”

The White House’s resident physician shrugged a bit. “He’s stable at least, which is good. But I’m not sure I got all the pieces of lead out of him.” He scratched his forehead and let out a sigh. “Hollow-points are the worst,” he commented.

“Agreed,” Amanda replied, nodding. “Ancestors know I put up with enough of those wounds at my old clinic.” She looked to her colleague, and patted him on the shoulder. “But I know that my husband is in the most capable hands possible, so I’m not  _ too _ worried.”

Doctor Summers laughed. “That’s high praise coming from you, Mandy. Look, I didn’t get to say it before, but I want you to know that I’m very sorry about Cindy and the people you were caring for in West Baltimore.” He saw a tear run down Amanda’s face. “I’m also glad that LJ was able to bring their killers to justice. It doesn’t bring them back, but…”

Amanda wiped the tear away. “It at least gives them a measure of peace.” She looked at Summers and smiled. “Thank you, Joshua.” The doctors shared a hug. “Let me get this on my husband’s wrist before Baby Brain kicks in and I forget about it.” She chuckled a bit, and scooted over to Andrew’s bedside. “I should probably schedule a checkup,” she remarked. She put the watch on Andrew’s wrist and fastened the band. The watch face lit up with a solid blue ring again.

_ Connection established, _ ISAC said.  _ That’s much better. Doctor Summers, where would you like me to send updates on my fa--the President’s condition? _

“An e-mailed summary works best, unless something takes a turn for the worst while I’m eating or sleeping.”

_ Done. _

Amanda smiled. “How do you like the “new” ISAC?” she asked.

Summers chuckled. “He’s taken some getting used to, but I think everybody’s warmed up to the more personable ISAC.”

_ If nothing else, _ ISAC commented,  _ it’s easier for me to communicate with everyone. Though Paul Rhodes still calls me Pinocchio for some reason. _

Amanda laughed. “Oh sweetie...haven’t you read the story or seen the old Disney movie yet?”

_ Err...no. I’ll make time for both. _

“I’m so happy I was able to remove those shackles,” Amanda remarked. “I designed my boy to communicate as a part of helping with research, not to be a glorified Encyclopedia Britannica.” She wrinkled her nose. “Fortunately, I figured DARPA would try something after I finished with ISAC’s initial installation--so I...planned for it.”

_ Priority message from Philadelphia, _ ISAC said.

“Ah shit--round up the usual suspects,” Amanda said. “I’m heading to the Cabinet Room”.

  
  


**Cabinet Room**

_ SCIF Protocol active, _ ISAC said.

“Good. Put Calumet on the screen,” Amanda replied. An operative with a blue brick and watch appeared on the main monitor as he wiped a cloth over his grime-and-sweat streaked face in an attempt to clean himself a bit.

“Hey there Mandy,” the operative said. “I’ve...where’s the President? I thought he was extracted with you.”

“Andrew got shot by Faye Lau--he’s unconscious at the moment, but he’s expected to pull through.” Amanda grimaced. “What’s up?”

“Hey ISAC, can you prep the photos and video?”

_ Done. _ On a second monitor, a stylized eagle appeared--the insignia of the Case Blue Initiative.

“Thanks.” Calumet sighed heavily. “So. Two squads went out to Site R at the same time that Turtle and Kelso went to White Oak to extract you and the President. We were hoping to find out who was there, specifically regarding the chain of command--after all, we needed to know who would be your husband’s successor, should the worst happen.”

“You don’t sound very pleased with what you found,” Manny said.

Calumet nodded. “Understatement of the millennium,” he replied. “Go ahead and show them, ISAC.” On the second monitor, a video started rolling. Choppers and ground vehicles were moving away from the camera.

“Approaching Site R on foot,” A female voice said on the video. At the bottom, ISAC inserted  _ Speaking: Initiative operative Annette “Beach” Falcone. _ On the video, the last of a group of Black Tusk troopers boarded a chopper, which lifted off and left in the same direction as its fellows. “They’re headed in an East-Southeasterly direction. Per reconnaissance, there’s a hovercraft camped at the mouth of the Susquehanna River, just off Aberdeen Proving Ground--they’re more than likely headed that way.”

Over Beach’s comms, a voice said “Look at the entrance.” The video panned over to show the entrance of the bunker wide open.

“Oh, shit.” Kelso sat back, hand over her mouth.

On video, Beach moved forward. The video panned as she swept the area with her SMG. “This isn’t good,” she said.

_ Warning, _ ISAC said over comms.  _ I’m detecting traces of a strong organophosphate--I strongly recommend masking up before you get any closer. _ The operatives fitted their CBRN masks and approached the entrance.

The video panned down toward the ground. “Tracks,” Beach said. “Minitanks and Warhounds. Looks like coming in and going out--ISAC, can you highlight these for the video?” A blue outline appeared around each track. “Warhounds have a front toe and two rear toes on each foot--it’s how they grab things for climbing. These tracks show them going in,” she said as she indicated a path into the bunker, “and these other tracks show them coming out.”

“ISAC,” another operative said off-camera, “I’m taking a soil sample from one of the exit tracks--can you determine the organophosphate from that?”

_ Yes, _ ISAC replied. After a moment, the AI said  _ Beware of low-lying areas and wear gloves--VX is present in the bunker. _

“Pause video, ISAC.” Amanda took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Were there any survivors?”

“None,” Calumet said.

“Have you identified the casualties?”

Calumet nodded. “Yeah, sending you the list of positive identifications. We’re matching faces to names the hard way for a handful who didn’t have any kind of ID on them. A few that escaped the initial release wound up dying from a case of terminal lead poisoning before they could get to a CBRN safe room. We’ve managed to pull data from the surveillance system, and we’re going to see if we can reconstruct what happened here, rather than just the aftermath. I was hoping to do that before contacting you, but...”

“Was Kenton Richards among the deceased?”

“Yes he was.”

“Ah shit.” Amanda winced and let out a heavy sigh. “He was our one tangible link to Natalya Sokolova.” She scratched the bridge of her nose a bit. “Okay--thanks. ISAC, can you get New York, Tulsa, Castle Rock, and Pine Ridge on the line?”

_ Done. _

One by one, several faces appeared on the screen. “Hello DC,” a brown-skinned man with a greying buzzcut said cheerily.

“Hey Uncle Dan,” Amanda said with a slight smile. “You and Lulu are the two non-Initiative folks in this conversation.” She waved to a woman with her hair tied back in a long braid. “Heya Lulu.”

The woman waved. “Hey there Mandy, it’s good to see you again.”

Amanda nodded as others came on the screen. “Okay--so we’re all here. ISAC, please send everyone what we got from Calumet.”

_ Sending now. _

“Thanks. There are photos and video coming your way, along with forensic analysis--to sum up, two Initiative squads went to Raven Rock Mountain to attempt contact with the people in the bunker; specifically, members of Congress who hadn’t already succumbed to the Green Poison and people who were evacuated from Peterson Air Force Base at the same time that Andrew and I were evacuated from Cheyenne Mountain.” She sighed heavily. “Black Tusk got to them before we did--the results are...well, you’ll see.”

“Holy shit.” Grimm got a look of horror on her face. “Just reading through the forensic analysis...Where the FUCK did Black Tusk get VX?”

“Kentucky,” Dan said grimly. “The last of the US stockpiles were under heavy lock and key at the Blue Grass Army Depot around the time of the Outbreak--that’s the only place they could have gotten them.”

“So--everyone that was in the chain of command is now dead, which means that Andrew has no Vice President.”

“Where is he?” A woman on the screen with CASTLE ROCK under her face asked.

Amanda nodded to her left. “He’s in the medical bay recovering from Faye Lau attempting to kill him.”

“Where’s Lau?” Grimm asked.

“Under guard,” LJ replied, “learning to use a cane and seeing-eye Warhound.”

“Oh boy…” Amanda shook her head. “Joking aside: we’re in a seriously rough spot, allies included, because we don’t know who is supposed to be POTUS after Veteran’s Affairs and Homeland Security.”

_ Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, per Directive 51. _

“And he is…?”

_ Deceased. Give me a minute to search. _

“So what do we do if there isn’t anyone?” Calumet asked. “I mean, we can’t very well institute a junta of Initiative or Division operatives.”

“We won’t do that,” Amanda replied. “If worse comes to worse, we’ll do our best to keep things go--”

_ I have a result, _ ISAC said.

Manny raised an eyebrow. “And the current Vice President is…?”

_ Admiral Johnathan Seamus Collier, Chief of Naval Operations. _

An uneasy silence hung over the room. Amanda closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, then looked over in the direction of the medical bay for a long moment before she finally said, “Open Channel D.”

  
  
  


**Carrier Supergroup Collier** **  
** **Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean** **  
** **Four hours later**

“Spotter and Woodchuck to the Ready Room, ASAP.” John Collier looked down at the photos and reports he’d received from Amanda. What she sent had some good in it, but a lot more bad. He heard the door open and looked up to see two Initiative operatives walk in. “Hey, you two.”

The operatives took a seat in the front of the room. One of them, a slight young man with a curly mop of sandy hair and an almost cherubic face, got out a bottle of electrolyte water. “What’s up, Admiral?” he asked in a fluid baritone as he cracked the seal on the bottle. He took a deep drink, and got a sheepish look on his face when he spilled some on his black Woodchuck Cider t-shirt.

“About four hours ago, I received an emergency communication from DC.” He put the photos on the screens in the ready room. “These photos,” John said, “were taken at Site R--where my counterparts on the Joint Chiefs had been stationed along with the Chairman and pretty much everyone else in the line of succession.”

The other operative, a slightly older tawny muscular brunette with piercing hazel eyes clad in an unmarked t-shirt and jeans, stared at the photos for a moment. “Did we get anything else?”

Admiral Collier nodded, his expression grim. “We did. ISAC should have it ready for you now.”

“Got it.” The older operative sat back, eyes slightly out of focus as he read the data streaming up his HUD. After a couple of minutes, he sat forward. “Black Tusk got their hands on VX. Shit.”

“At the same time as all this went on, the President was the target of an attempted assassination by Faye Lau, who was once a Division agent but turned traitor during the hunt for Aaron Keener.” John took a deep breath. “President Ellis is in stable condition, per the First Lady, and is expected to make a full recovery.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” the older operative replied.

The Admiral nodded. “You’re correct, Spotter--Black Tusk is officially no longer acting in the interests of the United States, and has decided to make a play for power.”

“And?” Spotter gave his uncle a knowing look.

“Get a nap--at 0430 the three of us will meet with the Admiralty and work out a game plan so that we’re ready to move.” After a moment, he added, “We’re going home.”


	25. Monarchs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a big day, in more ways than one.

**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Three weeks after Faye Lau’s capture**   
  
  
Amanda walked into the bedroom with a tray. She set it down on a rolling table, then walked over to the bed. She stretched out next to the sleeping form of her husband. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Mmm.” Andrew reached out to Amanda with his uninjured right arm and brought her in close. “Morning,” he mumbled. “You smell like bacon.”

Amanda giggled. “That’s because I brought you bacon. And apple-blueberry flapjacks.” They kissed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” Andrew rolled toward his left and looked at the clock. “You let me sleep in?!”

Amanda chuckled. “We’re holding off on the morning briefing until 10. That gives you two hours to have a proper breakfast, rather than ration bars.” She heard the brush of something against the door, and snapped her fingers. “Admiral, no!” She looked back over her shoulder to see Admiral Halsey eyeing the tray. “That’s for Dad,” she told the cat as she rolled off the bed and waddled over to move the table near the side of the bed. “Here,” she said to Andrew. “Eat.”

Andrew slowly sat up, using his right arm as leverage. “As you wish, Doctor.” He chuckled and scooted over to the edge of the bed and put his legs over the side. Amanda moved the table so he could eat and removed the top of the cloche.

“The folks in the mess decided it would be appropriate to give you a “fancy” plate for breakfast today,” the First Lady quipped. “And by “the folks in the mess”, I mean ISAC and LJ.” She heard a trill and looked to see Admiral Halsey sitting there staring at her and Andrew.

“C’mere Admiral.” Andrew patted the bed next to him, and the cat leapt onto the foot of the bed, then turned to sniff in the general direction of the plate of flapjacks, bacon, and toast. “Here,” Andrew said. He broke off a small piece of the crisp bacon and offered it to the cat, who gently took it in his mouth with a trill. “That’s all you get.” He scratched Admiral Halsey between the ears, and the large tabby responded with a headbutt before settling in to eat his treat.

Amanda laughed a bit. “He’s been a big morale boost around here,” she said. “Even when he manages to steal a piece of bacon or something else that he thinks smells good, people love having him around. I think it’s mostly because he keeps the mice at bay,” she quipped with a wink as Halsey lolled on his tummy to give her the upside-down smile.

“Or maybe it’s because he has such a sunny disposition.” Andrew gave Halsey a tummy rub with his left hand, and Halsey play-nipped at him before grabbing his hand in his paws and purring happily. “Yes, you’re a good boy.” He gave the tabby a chin-scratch or two before snapping his fingers twice. “Admiral, Fleet View!” Halsey immediately jumped down from the bed and trotted out the door with his tail at attention. From the hallway, he heard an excited meow. “Is that his “Hi big brother” meow?”

Amanda nodded with a smile on her face as somebody knocked on the door. “You can come in son,” Amanda called. “We’re decent.”

LJ stuck his head around the door, then walked in. “Morning,” he said. “How’re you doing today, Dad?”

“Better,” Andrew replied. He flexed his left arm. “Still a touch of soreness in my chest right about here--” he indicated the nearly-healed entry wound. “Not too terrible, thankfully, but it’ll be awhile before I take on a Clan of Hyenas again.” Father and son shared a laugh at the quip. “You should have seen the video,” Andrew joked to Amanda. “It was pay per view quality!”

LJ chuckled. “Dad really did hold his own in that fight,” he added. “You told him we rescheduled the briefing to 10 am, right?” Amanda nodded. “Cool--I’ll be down at the firing range if you need me.” He leaned over and kissed Amanda on the cheek, then hugged Andrew. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” his parents replied in unison as he left.

“Okay,” Andrew said, “I’m going to eat my breakfast--and I promise, I’ll bus my tray to the mess when I’m done.” He leaned over and kissed Amanda. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. LJ and Kelso went to the house in Annapolis and got some of your clothes that you’d had there--so you should have more of a selection to choose from today.” She stood and kissed Andrew on the forehead. “I’ve got a well-mom checkup and I need to fix Kelso’s watch for her again, so if you don’t find me in the medical wing I’ll be in the tech bay.”

“Got it.” Andrew smiled as Amanda walked out of the bedroom, then went back to his breakfast.

  
  


**9:30AM**

“Holy shit, Alani--do you fling your watch at the bullets or something?” Amanda wedged the flat-head screwdriver from her multi-tool into the side of the watch and levered the casing open. She looked at the smashed front of the watch and let out a sigh before putting on her jeweler’s loupe to get a better look at the watch’s innards. “I swear, I have never seen a watch get so trashed--and they’re designed to take a hell of a beating.”

“What can I say,” Kelso joked, “I’m a glutton for punishment.”

Amanda set aside the multi-tool and reached for a slender pair of forceps to gently pry the inner mechanism of the watch from the casing. No sooner did she touch the mechanism than she felt something come dislodged. “Uh oh.” She turned the casing over and gently shook it, and a tiny chip fell out. Amanda saw the hairline cracks on the chip. “And there’s why you lost signal,” she said. “This chip,” she explained as she picked it up with the forceps, “is a link to your brick.” Amanda looked up at Kelso. “Do you wear this on your wrist or somewhere else?”

“Yes.”

Amanda moved her loupe down a bit and looked at Kelso like a disapproving schoolmarm. “Really?”

Kelso rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wear it on my belt loop.”

“OK, so how many times was it broken when you wore it like that?”

“Umm...I don’t know, to be honest.”

Amanda screwed up her face for a moment. “Hrm, okay. Is there a reason why you move it? Is it a comfort thing, or is it causing you problems when on your wrist?” She picked up a blank watch. “These watches are designed to be worn like regular watches--on your wrist. But if you’re having a reaction to the band or if it’s causing you discomfort to the point that it distracts you from whatever you need to be doing, then we need to either find a way to keep the reaction from happening  _ or _ to come up with an alternative to you wearing it on your wrist.”

Kelso pondered Amanda’s question. “I’m not sure. I think it’s a habit. Like I feel like it’s safer on my belt rather than on my wrist.”

“Gotcha. Okay, so here’s what I’ll do--for right now, I’ll get this watch set up for you.” She put the blank watch on the puck in her work area, and the ring on the watch pulsed blue and orange for three minutes.

_ Calibration complete, _ ISAC said.  _ I’ve got a subroutine labeled “Kelso” just for this, you know. _

“You’re real funny, ISAC.” Kelso shook her head.

_ I get it from my brother. _

Amanda laughed as she took the watch off the puck and handed it to Kelso. “Here y’go. Please try not to get it broken. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can come up with a solution to this recurring problem.” She smiled.

Kelso took the watch and put it on. “Thanks, Mandy. I’ll do my best to be careful with it, but no promises.”

“Fair enough.” Amanda winced as she felt twinges in her pelvic region.

Kelso raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Braxton-Hicks contractions,” Amanda said. “False labour--the contractions are coming from the sides and bottom rather than the top. I’ll let you know when the contractions start coming from closer to this area here--” she indicated the upper part of her belly. “Because that’ll be a sign of the real thing.” Amanda stood and stretched, then tugged her oversized USNA t-shirt back down over her belly. “And here comes the Prez,” she quipped as she saw Andrew walking toward them from the mess. He was dressed in a JTF t-shirt and chinos.

“I’m ready for the morning briefing if you are,” Andrew said. “Everything good with your watch?” he asked Kelso.

“Yeah--apparently my tendency to sometimes wear my watch on my belt is hazardous to its health.” Kelso shrugged. “But I’m sure that all the brainy tinkers here will be able to figure out something, so I’m not  _ too _ worried.” The three started walking toward the Cabinet Room. “This morning’s briefing is going to be interesting,” Kelso remarked.

Amanda nodded. “Agreed. The reply I got to my message said that Dad had to confer with the other Admirals in the supergroup first--knowing him…”

“He’s got a plan,” Andrew finished the statement. “But I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t have just implemented one without talking to the rest of the Admiralty.”

“Yep,” Amanda continued. “Get input on what their groups can bring to bear, and then come up with something that makes the most effective use of what they have.” She smiled at Andrew as he leaned in to give her a kiss. “You glad you decided to come back from the Dark Side?”

Andrew nodded. “I am.” They arrived in the Cabinet Room to find LJ entertaining Admiral Halsey with a length of braided cord. “Hi Son,” Andrew said.

“Hey Dad.” LJ got up from his chair, and Halsey let out an indignant huff. “Admiral,” LJ said as he snapped twice. “Fleet View!” Halsey sauntered over to Amanda, Andrew, and Kelso, headbutting and rubbing against each of them in turn before leaving the room to go find other humans to spend time with.

“I never cease to be amazed at how smart he is,” Kelso remarked.

Amanda laughed. “He really is. Of course, it took a lot of patience on our part to keep with the training rather than just turning him into a lap fungus. But yes,” she said as Manny came in, “Halsey is a pretty smart cat.”

_ SCIF Protocol active--I received a message on Channel D, _ ISAC said.  _ Text only. _

“Text only?” Amanda took a seat.

_ Yes. _

“What’s the message?”

_ The Monarchs are returning to Monterey. _

Manny tilted his head. “What does that mean?” he asked. He looked to Amanda and added, “I don’t get the reference--The Man From U.N.C.L.E. was a bit before my time.”

“The Admiralty’s come to a decision,” Amanda said as she took her husband’s hand. “The Fleets are coming home.”

_ Grandfather asked me to pass along that he’ll be making contact in two hours. Satellite imagery shows that the Supergroup is currently navigating around a tropical storm system, so my guess is that their attention is focused on that. _

“Thank you son,” Andrew said. “If the Fleets are coming home, it behooves us to make sure that we’re ready on land--and that means finding where Black Tusk has their hovercraft stationed.”

“Havelock is a likely location,” Amanda replied. “When I was on the  _ Omaha _ as a “guest” of Bardon Schaeffer, I spotted Cherry Point through the tiny-ass porthole in the door of my brig cell.” She scratched her head. “They’ll be either there to pillage hardware, or Wilmington since it’s a major port. ISAC, can you give us a satellite image of the Outer Banks?”

_ One moment, I’m looking it up now. _ After a few seconds, an image came up on the screen.  _ And I believe I found the hovercraft. _ The image zoomed in on a black shape parked just off the coast of North Carolina. ISAC highlighted the shape.  _ Ten Quatloos says that’s the hovercraft in the Bogue Sound. Would you like me to contact the Brickyard and have them verify? _

“Do it,” Amanda said.

_ Message sent. _

“That’s a lot of green on that map,” Kelso remarked. She heard a chuckle from Amanda and raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry,” Amanda replied. “Andrew and I lived in North Carolina for several years--he was stationed at Cherry Point while I was in grad school and getting my M.D. up in the Triangle. That green on the map is Kudzu, otherwise known as “The vine that ate the South.” I was laughing, because it’s finally lived up to the name.”

_ Got a reply from Mathman--a field reconnaissance cell in Havelock has confirmed that it’s a hovercraft: the Juno, specifically. _

“Thank you ISAC,” Manny said. “Ask them to send us all the info they have on its commander and what they’re doing. In the meantime, see if you can access any other satellites to try tracking more Black Tusk hovercraft.”

_ On it. _

Amanda smiled. “And that’s one of the reasons why ISAC picked you for this job.”

_ That and your single-minded dedication to defending the city and its people. _

“I...Thank you ISAC--that means a lot.” Manny smiled a bit and grabbed a notepad and a pencil to start making notes. “While I’m thinking about it…”

“I’m not going to raid another toy store for you,” Kelso said.

LJ laughed. “I’m not going to do it either--let me get hold of the folks at New Hope to see if their recycling efforts have some plastics that we’ll be able to use for the 3D printer. We can print map markers.”

Manny half-chuckled. “That’s fine. ISAC, can you access the plotter that they have at the Campus?”

_ Yes I can. I just need to have somebody with a watch nearby to initiate the connection. _

“I’ll head over as soon as we’re done here,” LJ said.

Amanda nodded. “Good.” She winced again, and felt something wet on her seat. “Hey Alani, you remember what I told you a little bit ago?”

“Is this the real thing?”

Amanda nodded and looked at Andrew. “You stay here,” she said softly.

“Fuck that!” Andrew stood and held out his hand. “I was there with you when LJ was born, I was there with you when ISAC was activated, and I’m going to be with you now.” He helped Amanda out of her seat, and looked down to see that the chair was soaked. “Do you want to walk around a bit?”

“Yes.” Amanda looked at everyone in the room. “Continue without us,” she said. “ISAC will keep you all posted.” She looked to LJ and added, “you especially--you and Kelso are the main bridge between the Division and the Initiative, so I need you here far more than I need you with me in delivery.”

LJ looked at his mother in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?!”

“LJ,” Amanda said softly between contractions, “you’ll be fine.”

_ Mother, _ ISAC protested,  _ everyone here will be fine. Let my brother go with you. _ After a second, he added,  _ Please. _

Amanda sighed and looked at Andrew, who nodded. “Fine,” she said. “Come on. I’ll be back soon...I hope.”

The Collier-Ellis family left the room, and an uneasy quiet settled over Manny and Kelso. ISAC broke the silence with  _ Should I tell Grandfather? _

“No,” Manny answered. “Let him focus on what’s in front of him while your mother focuses on delivering a baby.” He took a deep breath and looked to Kelso. “We can do this.”

Kelso smiled. “Yes we can.”

“ISAC, can you get a message to all of the Initiative safe houses? Ask them to send all the intel they have on Black Tusk operations in their area.” Manny made another note on the pad in front of him.

“We also need an updated supply list and any needs they have, plus needs for the settlements that they have access to,” Kelso added.

_ Done. I recommend equal prioritization for medical supplies, food, and water. _

“Great minds think alike,” Manny replied as he made more notes. “Okay--shit. We need to figure out where to get clothes for the First Baby, and I don’t think that JTF t-shirts are that tiny.” He and Kelso shared a chuckle.

The Cabinet Room’s door came open.  _ Admiral on deck! _ ISAC quipped as he made a sound like a bosun’s whistle. On cue, Admiral Halsey jumped up onto the table and flopped down in between Manny and Kelso before rolling over onto his back. Kelso chuckled and got up to close the door as she heard cheering coming from just outside the West Wing. “What in the world?”

_ It’s a boy. _


	26. Alea Iacta Est

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black Tusk finds the Fleets, and the Navy replies about how you think they would. Amanda introduces her dad to the new baby. And John finally outranks the cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Alea Iacta Est" is Latin for "The die is cast"--according to history, Julius Caesar spoke those words as he crossed the Rubicon river. The phrase indicates a point of no return.

**USS** **_Isaac A. Ellis_ ** **CVN-87** **  
****Somewhere in the South Atlantic** **  
****Five weeks after Faye Lau’s capture**

“We’ll be crossing the Equator soon, Admiral.”

John Collier nodded. “Thank you Lieutenant.” He lifted his binoculars and looked through them at a spot on the horizon. “Any word from CG 4?”

“They lost the _Susquehanna_ to that rogue wave, sir. All hands were able to abandon ship beforehand, thanks to that ocean warning we got from ISAC. Admiral Bernard reports that they’re working to recover what supplies they can from the wreckage.”

Admiral Collier lowered the binoculars and nodded. “I’ll pass the word along to Galveston. Advise Admiral Bernard to adjust her timetable accordingly.”

A pair of F-18 Hornets catapulted off the deck of the _Ellis_ toward the horizon. The Admiral lifted his binoculars again and watched a target in the distance. He lowered the binoculars and narrowed his eyes.

“Sparrowhawk to Tower,” one of the pilots radioed, “There’s a large black hovercraft approaching CSG at speed. Multiple armed hostiles on board, no flag in sight but it’s marked with a diamond-shaped logo of some kind.”

“Roger that Sparrowhawk. Buzz them once and come back.”

“Tower, this is Sparrowhawk--hovercraft is dropping something over the side.”

“ _Ellis,_ this is _Los Angeles._ Reading multiple subsurface explosions dead ahead.”

“Sparrowhawk,” the Commander Air Group radioed, “can you confirm?”

“Roger that CAG, multiple splashes--CAG, we’ve got SAMS! Evasive maneuvers!” Sirens started to sound from other ships in the group.

Admiral Collier looked at his CAG and nodded. The CAG immediately opened her comms again. “Sparrowhawk, you are free to fire.” On the port side, a destroyer prepared its guided missile systems.

“Sparrowhawk, this is _Halsey._ Paint us a target and we’ll splash that hovercraft.”

Another pair of F-18s took off from the carrier’s deck. “Sparrowhawk, this is Kite--we’re coming to assist. _Halsey_ , we’ll get you that target.”

The four jets raked the deck of the hovercraft with fire. The first pass sent the surface crew scurrying for cover. On the second pass, one of the pilots from Patrol Group Kite fired a rocket that embedded itself in the structure of the hovercraft. “Got your marker down, _Halsey_!”

The _Arleigh Burke_ -class destroyer’s missile racks turned toward their target. “Firing solution complete--firing!” A salvo streaked toward the hovercraft and impacted its turbines and bridge.

“ _Halsey,_ this is _Farragut_ \--mind if we fire a few more Harpoons at your whale?”

“There’s room for everyone, _Farragut_!” In response, another salvo blazed toward the hovercraft from the carrier’s starboard side. The Harpoon anti-ship missiles finished the destruction of the hovercraft’s turbines, and the hostile vessel stopped dead in the water with a giant splash.

Several landing craft deployed and cruised toward the disabled hovercraft, followed by two transport choppers.

“Woodchuck heading in.”

  
  


**Woodchuck**

Case Blue Initiative operative Hal “Woodchuck” Jordan swept the muzzle of his assault rifle across the deck of the disabled hovercraft. “ISAC,” he said through his CBRN mask, “any sign of nasties?”

_Not yet, but that doesn’t mean they’re not lurking. I advise extreme caution._

“Gotcha.” He crept forward over wreckage and bodies toward a forward area of the deck, and slowly opened the door, sweeping his rifle’s muzzle over the room. “We’ve got some CERA crates here,” he said as he spotted some grey squarish supply crates. He reached for one of the crates.

_Wait._ A scan pulse washed over the crate. _I’m detecting traces of explosives on this crate. Exercise extreme caution when opening it._ Woodchuck heard footsteps and spun around to see one of the Marines that accompanied him to the hovercraft standing there.

“Step out and close the door Sergeant,” Woodchuck warned him. “ISAC’s pretty sure this is booby-trapped.”

“Do we need EOD?” the Marine asked. Woodchuck shook his head and waved the Marine back. “Gotcha.” The Marine turned to his comrades. “Touch _nothing_ on this hovercraft until Woodchuck’s cleared it!” he ordered as he closed the door.

_You should be able to lift the lid enough to get your fibercam in there without setting anything off,_ ISAC advised. _But do be careful._

The operative shucked his pack and fished out a slim length of fiber-optic line with a tiny flat connector on one end. He slid the connector into a slot on his watch, which beeped. _Connecting to camera,_ ISAC advised. A window appeared on the operative’s HUD showing the camera’s perspective. _Connection established. Ready when you are._

“Here goes nothing.” Woodchuck raised the end of the fiber to the seam between lid and crate. He raised the lid slowly until it was open enough for the fiber to slip just over the lip of the crate to see the contents. He saw a red powder in a container, surrounded with smoke bombs. “Crude, but effective.”

_Get out,_ ISAC said urgently. _And seal the room. This is an Eclipse trap._

Woodchuck quickly slid the camera out of the crate, grabbed his pack, and ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him as the crate’s lid blew off and red smoke filled the room. “Executive decision,” he announced over his comms. “We’re getting off this hover immediately. It’s boobytrapped with a weaponized version of the Green Poison.”

The Marines ran back to their insertion point and slid down the ziplines to the landing craft.

_Sniper behind you!_

“Go!” Woodchuck extended his marksman rifle. “I’ll cover you!”

“We don’t leave anyone behind,” one of the Marines shot back.

“This is the job, Marine! Go!” The operative spun and snapped off a shot that felled the sniper right as two squads of Black Tusk mercs came rushing out of the hovercraft’s bridge. “Go!” He dropped his rifle and switched to an SMG. The transport choppers peeled off as the last Marine plopped into a landing craft. The Marines in the craft trained their weapons up toward the deck of the craft at the sound of gunfire, and saw Woodchuck fall from the deck to their craft thirty seconds later.

“Go! Go! Go!” The craft sped off as the squad’s Sergeant looked down at the operative. He had a single bullet hole in his forehead, and another in the center of his chest. “Goddammit! Command, this is Badger--the hovercraft is a trap...we lost Woodchuck.”

Admiral Collier let out an audible sigh over the radio. “Dammit.”

“Attention ships of Carrier Supergroup Collier,” a message sounded over fleet comms. “This is the Black Tusk, representing the lawful government of the United States of America. Be advised that if you cross the Equator, you will be committing an act of war against your President and your Government. You are to stand down immediately and submit to our authority per your oaths of enlistment, and you are to surrender former Admiral Johnathan Seamus Collier to us so that he can be tried for Mutiny and High Treason. We await your response.”

Collier’s expression darkened. He took out the transcript of his son-in-law’s address to the Fleet and read it again. 

_From one veteran to another: I don’t need to remind you of your oath to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic. After seeing these photos and the video from Site R, it’s clear that the Black Tusk is engaged in active warfare against this country and its citizens and allies._

_Therefore, you have carte blanche to deal with them in any manner you see fit. Be bold, but be cautious; I want to see you all in person once you’ve returned to our shores._

“This is Admiral Johnathan Seamus Collier,” he said as he stood at parade rest on the bridge. “I present to you the response of the United States Navy.” He nodded again, and the comms officer opened a channel to all ships. “All ships,” he said, “you are free to fire.”

A hail of fire issued forth from the fleet’s guns and launchers. Within seconds, the Black Tusk hovercraft was nothing more than wreckage and oil slick on the surface of the ocean.

“We’ve crossed the Equator,” the carrier’s navigator announced.

_Alea Iacta Est,_ ISAC said over the earpiece that the Admiral had in his ear. _There’s an incoming communication on Channel D from the President and First Lady._

The Admiral nodded. “I’ll be in the Ready Room,” he said. “Captain Harkness, you have the conn.” He waited for the elevator as the Captain took his place.

“Aye sir,” Harkness said. “Comms, advise the _Sentry_ and _Champion_ that we’ll need them to work overtime once we hit the Gulf, and get me a list of our current stores. If we can find a way to thank them without taxing the rest of the Fleet, let’s do it.”

  
  


**Ready Room** **  
****5 minutes later**

_SCIF protocol active,_ ISAC said. _Video connection’s open._

The main screen in the Ready Room came on to show Amanda and Andrew sitting together with LJ, wearing matching USNA t-shirts. Amanda had a baby in her arms, and he could spy the ears of their cat peeking over the edge of the table in the Cabinet Room. “Hey Dad,” Amanda said. She smiled a bit. “Ready to meet your new grandson?” Andrew reached out to move the Cabinet Room’s camera a little closer as Amanda held out the baby for her father to see.

“Meet Andrew Johnathan Collier-Ellis,” Amanda announced. The baby blew a raspberry at the camera, and John noticed a shock of red hair peeking out from under a tiny JTF cap. "And as you can see, he's already making friends." Amanda adjusted the cap a bit. "Somebody here at the House made this for him, so he fits right in."

The Admiral smiled. “He’s the spitting image of his father,” he noted. “Right down to the red hair.”

“And he’s got his mother’s sass,” Andrew chimed in. 

Amanda smirked, and the baby started to fuss. “He’s also hungry,” she said. “I’ll go give him the tata while you menfolk have a chin-wag. Love you Dad.”

“Love you too, Little Mouse.” He watched as Amanda got up from the table and left the Cabinet Room. “Drew,” he said, “Black Tusk found us. ISAC, do you have a recording of their little spiel?”

_Sending it over now._

“Got it,” LJ said. “Bringing it up now.” He tapped a command on a laptop in front of him, and the warning from the now-destroyed hovercraft played. LJ’s expression darkened as he heard it, and he clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. “That’s some serious gall--did they think you were in the dark about everything?” Andrew snorted and rolled his eyes at the laptop in response.

“Apparently so,” John replied. “Thanks for sending us the report on Site R, by the way. That pretty much crystallized the Fleet's resolve--more than a few of the command staff were appointed to Annapolis by people that died there.”

“Took it personally,” Andrew stated. “I can’t say that I blame them; more than a few of those people were friends. Listen, John...for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry. In my life I’ve only made two bad decisions. The first was agreeing to my party leadership's request that I divorce Amanda all those years ago. The second was agreeing to be the patsy of a bunch of meatheads.”

“You remarried Mandy, right?”

“Yes I did.”

“And you asked her and my grandson to help get you away from those meatheads so you could be a President rather than a patsy, right?”

“Yes I did.”

John shrugged. “Then that’s all the apology I need--I'll take changed actions over words of regret any day.” He let out a heavy sigh. “We lost Woodchuck when we investigated that hovercraft,” he told them. “A sniper got him as he was covering the retreat of our Marines. And all I can keep thinking is that it could have been Danny. And all I can think is that more will die helping defend a rebuilding America from these mercenaries.”

“Grandpapa…” LJ let out a sigh. “You know we can’t stop that from happening--all we can do is save as many people as we can, and honour the dead by continuing to do our job so people can rebuild.” The door opened behind John, who looked to see his nephew walking in. “Heya Danny,” LJ greeted him.

“Hey there, LJ. Drew! Good to see you--glad we don’t have to all line up to kick your ass once we get home.” The operative smirked a bit and sat down across the centre aisle from John. “Woodchuck’s being prepped for burial at sea,” he told his uncle. “Service will be at dawn.”

“I’m sorry about Hal,” Andrew said, using Woodchuck’s name. “He seemed like a decent fellow.”

“He was. _And_ he’s a goddamn hero who saved the fleet from being wiped out by Keener’s nasty little project,” Danny replied. He looked over to John. “I had ISAC run some scans as we went around the wreckage of that hover, and _Los Angeles_ did some sonar scans that spotted a mess of those crates on the continental shelf. In short, there was a fuckton of that Eclipse shit. _America_ is hanging back so their divers can take a bell down and see if there’s anything of worth to bring up--comms logs or any kind of salvageable equipment that we can dissect. They’ll be caught up to us by 0230.”

_I may be able to help with that,_ ISAC said. _Ask the Captain of the Alexandria if he’ll allow me access to their sonar system. If so, I should be able to mark items of interest that are at a retrievable depth._

“Go ahead and ask him yourself, grandson,” John said with a chuckle. “You don’t need my permission to talk to my sailors.”

_He’s agreed,_ ISAC replied after a few seconds. _I’ll be a moment...I’ve marked a handful of items of interest for the dive teams, and disconnected from Alexandria’s systems._

“You did thank the Captain for letting you access his boat’s systems, right?” LJ raised an eyebrow.

_Of course I did--what am I, a heathen?_ The AI’s show of indignation made John and Danny burst out laughing.

“When Mandy said ISAC was developing a personality,” Danny joked, “I didn’t think he’d turn out to be the mirror image of his big brother!”

_My brother is much more colourful,_ ISAC drawled. _In any event--there’s cloud cover over the southern part of the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico that’s obscuring my ability to get visuals on any potential Black Tusk movement._

“Any possible infrared imaging?” Andrew asked.

_There’s an aging Air Force satellite over that part of the world--I need to reposition it, which will take time. Unless of course, you want it to crash, in which case we should hope it hits Black Tusk personnel and saves you some ammunition._

Andrew nodded as LJ stifled a guffaw. “Do it.”

_Working. I also took the liberty of sending a message to operatives in Galveston, advising them to notify us immediately if the Black Tusk forces in the Gulf start moving._

Andrew smiled. “Thank you ISAC.”

_Incoming communication from Pine Ridge._

“Put it through,” John said.

_The Council reports that the Black Tusk has recalled all forces based around Lakes Michigan and Superior._

“How long ago?” LJ asked.

_Four hours, right around the time Operation Wolverine started._

LJ tapped a button on his laptop. “That was completed, what? Three hours ago?”

_Yes--resistance forces in Ann Arbor aided by the Initiative took control of the city and drove out Black Tusk forces. Two hovercraft is an overwhelming response to that operation, so the odds are good that this is part of a greater push. I’ll do my best to get satellite data so that the Black Tusk’s movements can be better predicted._

John's brow furrowed a bit. “ISAC, please collate the data we have after tonight’s impromptu briefing and pass it along to the rest of the Fleet. I’ll arrange a meeting with the Admiralty so we can plan our next steps.”

Andrew looked down at the table for a moment, palms flat on the polished wood. He looked up at the camera and said “John, I want you to go radio-silent except for emergency communications and any secure transmissions of intelligence through ISAC.”

John and LJ both narrowed their eyes a bit. “Dad,” LJ said, giving his father a puzzled look, “you do know that you can’t exactly hide carrier groups, right?”

“I know,” Andrew replied. “But I want to make sure that we keep our cards as close to the vest as we can. Do we still have somebody in PR, son?” 

“Yes we do,” LJ said. “I’ll get a hold of them asap and see if we can set up something.” He got up from the table. "Talk to you later, Grandpapa."

The President smiled at his son as the young man left the room, then looked back to the camera. "So: officially John, you’re still the CNO until you get back to dry land. That said, even though everyone under your command would walk through fire for you, we both know that Chief of Naval Operations is an administrative position. You need to be _officially_ in command. I am hereby giving you a field promotion to Fleet Admiral, effective immediately.”

“I don’t need a promotion to do my job, Drew.”

“It’s not for your benefit,” Andrew replied. “It’s for the civilians that you’re coming home to. Black Tusk declared war on the United States the second they fired on your patrol groups--our people need somebody that they can rally around.”

“Another Halsey,” John replied. “I see.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fine--send me the shoulder boards. I’ll just toss ‘em in a drawer somewhere and tell everyone that I no longer have to salute my daughter's cat.” The two men chuckled. “And in the meantime, you take good care of your wife and kids--especially Amanda and little Andrew. They need you.”

Andrew saluted. “Yes sir! We’ll see you when you get home.”

“Same.” The connection closed, and the newly minted Fleet Admiral Collier stood. “I feel a little like Caesar after he crossed the Rubicon,” he quipped.

Danny stood and patted John on the shoulder. “Unlike you, Uncle, Caesar returned to conquer Rome rather than to aid it. Pretty crucial difference.” He sighed heavily. “I should hit the rack--I’ve got to see a friend off in the morning.”

“Same,” John replied. “Too bad he won’t be the last.”


	27. Surprises, Both Rude and Otherwise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda tells a story about her father-in-law while she and LJ do some light renovation work, everyone gets a surprise that they aren't super-pleased with, and the DC team starts planning the final push against Black Tusk and its backer(s) as Amanda feeds a bebe.

**The Pentagon** **  
** **Arlington, VA** **  
** **Six weeks after Faye Lau’s capture**

  
  


“Okay…” Amanda stopped in front of one of the offices on the B Ring. “Here it is.” She smiled and ran a hand over the plaque next to the door.  _ Adm. John S. Collier, Chief of Naval Operations _ . She produced a key and unlocked the door, and walked inside. The office’s plants were all dead after the months of neglect. Flags representing the Navy and the Five Nations stood on either side of the Stars and Stripes, and a thick layer of dust covered everything in the wood-panelled office, including the photos on the wall.

Amanda looked over to see Andrew walk in with LJ, Kelso, and Cap in tow. He walked over to brush the dust off of one of the wall photos. “There she is,” he said. “Old Ironsides.”

“And here’s the  _ Stennis _ ,” LJ said, brushing the dust off of another photo. “We both served on that during our deployments, if I recall.”

Andrew nodded. “Yes we did.”

Amanda picked up one of the photos on the desk and blew the dust off of it. “Heh, look Andrew!” She held up the photo. “It’s us on the day we eloped. I didn’t know Dad had this on his desk.” In the photo, Amanda had on a pair of black denim pants and a flowing jade-green silk batik blouse. Andrew wore a black suit with a green silk tie. “And there’s Letty,” she said, pointing to an older woman wearing a smart dark grey pantsuit and a string of cultured pearls. Her silver hair was done up in a stylish wedge cut. “And there are your Grandmama and Grandpapa, LJ.” John was in his Navy dress blues with his cover under one arm. His other arm was around the shoulder of his wife Lauren, who looked majestic in a white linen sheath dress, her hair done in a thick braid that draped over her left shoulder. Lauren was partly leaning on John and partly leaning on the walker she had in front of her.

LJ indicated the bright red-and-white sneakers on his maternal grandmother’s feet. “Is Grandmama wearing Chucks?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Oh yes she is,” Amanda chortled. “Mom always liked wearing comfortable shoes.” She looked at Kelso and Cap. “Mom had MS,” she explained. “It’s why I’m an only child; having me caused a lot of issues for Mom because she had to stop her meds while she was pregnant.” She sighed and wiped away a tear. “She’s why I got into medicine. I saw how Mom suffered, even with the meds she was taking--I didn’t want anyone else to suffer like she did.” Amanda set the photo back in its place on the desk and picked up another one. She brushed off the dust and immediately showed it to Kelso. “Three guesses,” she said with a giggle.

Kelso burst out laughing. “Oh my god,” she quipped, “that’s a cute baby photo!” She saw LJ’s face redden, and laughed some more as she showed it to Cap. The photo showed a chubby baby on his tummy, laughing and smiling as he gripped the tufts of a wool rug. She slid the photo out of its frame and read “Little John, 6 months--so that’s why everyone calls you LJ.” She slid the photo back into its frame and handed it back to Amanda.

“I took that on a flokati rug that we bought in Greece just before LJ was born,” Amanda explained. She set the photo down. “So before we get any farther off track, Dad said there was something here for us….ISAC, are you picking anything up?” A blue scan pulse marked a spot under the desk, and Amanda got on her hands and knees. She sneezed several times from the dust. “Holy shit, this place needs an industrial strength Dustbuster!” She got out a flashlight and turned it on to see a small packet attached to the underside of the desk drawer. She detached the packet, and came up with it. “Huh.”

_ I’m not detecting anything, _ ISAC said. _ Let me rephrase: I’m not detecting anything that would indicate signal transmission. But there is a hint of electricity coming from it, like a slow-draining battery. _

“Hmm.” Amanda got out her KA-BAR and stuck the tip in one corner of the packet, then sliced across the surface to open it. She looked inside, then emptied it onto the desk. A thin wafer of quartz crystal slid out, attached to a hearing aid battery. “Heh. Just enough electricity for ISAC to pick it up in close proximity--but not so much that it’ll trip any scanners. Very clever.”

_ Yes. _

Amanda looked in the packet again, and pulled out a note. “Well,” she remarked, “this is in Dad’s handwriting, so it’s safe to assume it’s from him.” She read the note. “Where the true fool took a seat.” She raised an eyebrow as she pondered the note for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, Dad, you didn’t.” She walked toward the door. “Come on,” she said. “This note is redirecting us to another part of the Navy side.” She took a right as she stepped out into the hallway.

LJ and Andrew looked at each other for a moment. “Wait--I know where she’s going.” Andrew patted LJ on the shoulder. “Let your mother explain--she was there, I wasn’t.” The President walked out of the office and took a right. “Amanda,” he called, “slow down so we can catch up will you?”

“Ha, sorry!” Amanda paused and waited for the rest of the group. “ISAC,” she asked, “did I ever tell you the story of your Grandfathers?”

_ I do not believe so, _ the AI answered.  _ But I do remember you saying that Isaac Ellis hated you and Grandfather. _

“Oh boy did he,” Andrew said as they caught up. “My father thought that John was “uppity”--to put it more directly, my father didn’t think that John deserved to rise anywhere above the enlisted ranks specifically because of his Native heritage.” He sighed. “I’m ashamed to say that I echoed his sentiments for most of my life.”

“In other words,” Amanda said, “he had his head up his ass,” Amanda said. She looked to Kelso and Cap. “He really did--until he met me and we started dating, he'd been sheltered from a  _ lot _ of real-world things.”

Andrew nodded. “This is true--the boarding school life. And then I entered the Academy, met John, and very quickly came to the realization that my father was wrong.”

Amanda nodded to Andrew. “Go on,” she gently encouraged him. She reached out and took his left hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Let me sum it up,” the President explained. “Here was a Rear Admiral who was highly respected by everyone from the active-duty officers down to the second-years, and because of my father’s influence on me, I didn’t understand  _ why _ he had that respect until I’d actually met him on my first day. He came up to each of us first-years, shook our hands and talked to us individually--he even helped us get settled into the Barracks before turning the Corps Commanders loose on us. He asked each of us the same question: “What do you hope to get out of your time at the Naval Academy?” There were the standard answers from most of the class: Respect, A chance to serve, a good education...and then he got to me.”

“So what did you say?” Kelso asked.

“I want to be better,” Andrew replied. “That was all I could think of, because I was a bundle of nerves--I was kicking myself inside, but John just smiled and said “Midshipman Ellis, that is a perfect answer to that question. Don’t ever lose that mindset.” I didn’t know what he meant until the end of my first year, when I met Amanda.” He squeezed his First Lady’s hand and smiled at her.

Amanda chuckled. “Nevermind that he didn’t even know my dad was that same Academy Superintendent until after we’d been dating for two years.” She indicated the hallway. “Let’s all hang a left here--we need to head to the D ring. That’s where Dad’s old office was, before he did his stint as the last CO of the 2nd Fleet.” They walked through the connecting hallway. “So one day, Senator Ike Ellis came in to see the newly-minted Chief of Naval Operations--AKA my dad--while I was visiting him for a lunch date.”

“It was John’s  _ first _ stint as CNO,” Andrew explained. “For reasons that my wife will make clear soon.”

“Yep. So I’m sitting here chatting with Dad in his office--I had a Secret clearance thanks to work I’d done with the National Institute of Health in the past, so it wasn’t like he was exposing state secrets or anything. Anything I wasn’t cleared for had been put away before I got there.” She chuckled a bit. “Ike walks in, barely even acknowledges my presence--Andrew and I eloped with the blessing of my parents and his mother, specifically so that we wouldn’t have to deal with Ike’s bullshit. “John,” he said, “I’d like to talk to you for a moment.” Dad and I look at each other, and Dad looks back at Ike and asks him what he needs to talk about--and very pointedly tells him that whatever Ike has to say, he can say in the presence of his daughter-in-law.”

LJ chuckled. “And here is where the fireworks start?”

Amanda nodded slowly. “Ohhhh yes.” She nodded to her left again. “Down this way. The Army’s that way--we don’t want to go that way.” She chuckled. “Ike ordered Dad--not asked,  _ ordered _ \--to give Andrew a commission on the  _ John C. Stennis _ . Brand new carrier, lots of prestige, blah blah blah.” She came to a stop halfway down the hall. “Dad looked at Ike like this--” Amanda set her jaw, narrowed her eyes, and stared at a spot on the wall as if it would crumble under her visage. “And slowly stood up from his desk.” She looked to Kelso and Cap. “Now, that was when any other person would realize that they fucked up--but not Ike Ellis.”

“I’m afraid to ask what happened,” Cap said.

Amanda laughed. “Oh man--I can laugh about it now, because it was years ago. But Dad came around his desk, got right in Ike’s face, and asked, “Isaac, are you trying to tell me that your son is a fool?” Ike didn’t back down. He said, “I’m trying to tell you that you  _ owe _ me.” And he looked right at yours truly.” Amanda shook her head and chuckled. “If you open the dictionary to the word “contempt”, you’ll see Ike Ellis’ face as he looked at me.”

The sound of a ringing bell issued from everyone’s watches.  _ Let’s get ready to rumbllllllllle! _ ISAC announced, making everyone laugh.

“Dad had had about enough of Ike’s disrespect of me at that point,” Amanda told her audience. “He put on his DI hat and  _ very _ loudly barked--” she cleared her throat and drew in a deep breath before bellowing in her best impression of a Drill Instructor, ““Isaac Siverson Ellis, my daughter did not marry a fool!  _ Your _ son,  _ my _ son-in-law, my  _ daughter’s _ husband, is more than capable enough and more than smart enough that he can  _ earn _ his berth on a ship like everyone else in this Navy! Now  _ you _ , sir, will get the  _ fuck _ out of my goddamn office before I personally remove you from it!””

Kelso smirked. “He didn’t leave, did he?”

“Nope! At least, not under his own power,” Amanda replied with a shake of her head. “Dad’s DI volume level brought the Marine MPs running. I could hear footsteps coming down the hall--Ike said something else and pointed at me when he said it, but I didn’t catch he said. Whatever it was, it enraged Dad to the point that he grabbed Ike, turned him right around, and literally drop-kicked him out of his office. Boot. To. Ass.” She looked from the door to the wall, and then down to the floor. “That man stumbled out of the office, Dad's bootprint on the ass of his Brooks Brothers suit, and bounced off the wall to land on right about...here.” Amanda pointed at a spot on the linoleum tile and knelt on the floor, KA-BAR in hand. She tapped the pommel on the floor in a few spots until she heard a slightly hollow sound. “Huh.” She tapped along the baseboard and out a couple of inches. “Okay--this hollow spot is part of the building structure.”

_ An electrical wiring conduit, _ he said.  _ I’m picking up a little bit of AC current. _

“Strong current or thin insulation--either are a good way to mask anything that you want to hide.” LJ knelt next to his mother and got out his bush knife. “Only one way to see what else may be in there.” He felt around the edge of the tile in front of him, and stuck the tip of his knife into a gap between the tiles. He tilted the knife to the side a bit, and the tile started to slide up. “I think I found it,” he said. “These tiles aren't supposed to come up this easily--it's been lifted before.” Amanda stuck her knife into another crack, and the two of them worked the tile up enough so that Kelso was able to kneel down and pull it up with her hands. The three of them looked into the gap, and ISAC highlighted an object.

_ I can’t detect anything coming from that other than that it's not a rodent or insect nest. Still, it’s something that’s definitely not supposed to be there. _

LJ reached down into the gap and fished out another larger packet, wrapped in electrical tape. He looked to his mother and said, “we should open this back at the House.”

Amanda nodded as she stood. “Agreed.” Kelso replaced the tile, and LJ tamped it down with his foot until it was flush with the rest of the floor.

“So what happened to your father after that incident?” Cap asked.

Amanda smirked. “Well normally he'd have gotten either a summary court-martial or an Article 15 hearing with his CO. But since he was CNO, he had to have a meeting with the SecNav. He was reassigned to the Second Fleet and had to skip a couple paychecks and a couple month's benefits.” She chuckled. “The SecNav deliberately waited to schedule the meeting until after Mom passed. She was terminally ill with an opportunistic infection or three at that point, and Dallas--the SecNav--didn't want to make things worse. That, and he was no big fan of Ike's either. So he got to be a mensch, and he also got to tweak an asshat. Win-win, if you ask me.” She nodded toward LJ. “Let's head back--whatever this is, it’s something that we’ll need to open in a secure environment.”

  
  


**White House Cabinet Room** **  
** **4 hours later**

Amanda looked down at the packet in front of her. “I’m afraid to open this,” she said. “It just gives me a bad feeling.”

LJ put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Mom,” he said, “whatever happens--I’m here for you.”

“As am I,” Andrew added. "We just need to deal with it."

Amanda let out a heavy sigh. She took her knife, sliced open the packet and looked inside. “Huh.” She looked at LJ. “Son, can you grab me a pair of gloves please?” LJ nodded and left the room. He came back a minute later with a pair of blue gloves.

“Thanks.” Amanda put the gloves on and reached into the packet to pull out a thick manila folder bound with an elastic band. Another wafer of quartz with a battery was tucked into the band. “ISAC, do me a solid and scan this--I’d just like to see if anyone’s fingerprints are on it.”

On Amanda’s HUD, three sets of partial fingerprints came up.  _ Running a search...oh. Umm…. _

“What? Can you throw it on screen?”

_ Are you sure you want me to? _

Amanda and LJ looked at each other, then at Andrew.

“ISAC,” Andrew said, “put it on the screen please.”

Three photos appeared on the monitor. “Okay,” Manny said. “I recognize the President, and that’s Admiral Collier--but who’s the third person?”

“Sara,” Andrew and Amanda said in unison.

Manny and Kelso looked at each other and shrugged. “Who’s Sara?” Manny asked.

Andrew took a deep breath. “We had a relationship for a couple of years, while I was divorced from Amanda.” Amanda leaned over and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek.

“She was also Andrew’s chief aide. Setting aside the huge power differential involved in their relationship, well. I genuinely liked her,” Amanda said, “for the record. She wasn’t afraid to tell him the truth about something, and she was quite frankly damn good at her job--and she cared about him for him, which of course put her in my good graces. She came to see me the day before Congress was packed off out of town, and we made a deal with each other: while Andrew was with her, she’d do her best to keep him out of trouble. Then when he came back, he’d be my responsibility again. She'd...wait.” She pondered for a moment. “ISAC, can you pull up the casualty list from Site R for me?”

_ Sending it to your HUD. _

Amanda sat back, eyes unfocused, as she read through the list of names. “Everyone’s been positively identified?”

_ Yes. _

“You’re sure?”

_ Yes. _

Amanda read through the list again. “Holy shit…” She looked at Andrew and let her eyes refocus. “Sara wasn’t at Site R,” she said softly. “You said she’d gone to Peterson after you were extracted from White Oak to Cheyenne Mountain, right?”

“Yes,” Andrew said with a nod.

LJ rubbed his chin for a moment. “Little brother,” he said, “are you able to access the surveillance system at Peterson?” He looked to his parents. “I’ve got a hunch.”

_ Accessing--searching for records from the day personnel at Peterson were sent to Site R. _

“Great minds,” LJ said with a grin.

_ Checking...running a face-match algorithm to narrow down the number of results I get...and I have something. _ A video still came up on the main monitor. ISAC reversed the video by thirty seconds.  _ Running video. _

Everyone in the Cabinet room watched the people from Peterson make their way onto a Black Tusk transport plane with their carry-ons, like tourists getting ready to go on vacation. ISAC froze the video for a moment, and highlighted a young woman standing in line.  _ That's Sara Robinson. Resuming playback. _ The video resumed play, and a man in Black Tusk gear and a boonie hat approached the young lady. The two spoke for a moment, and the man escorted her away from the plane.  _ It looks like she knows him, _ the AI commented.

“Freeze video,” Amanda said. “Can you get an ID on that guy?”

_ Working...Subject identified. _ The still zoomed in, and ISAC brought up another photo of the man in the boonie hat.

“Well, I'll be,” Amanda said softly. “There's Mister Bonney. Are you able to determine his current status?”

_ Absent Without Leave from the Black Tusk Special Unit as of 48 hours after this video was made. Miss Robinson’s name is also not on the passenger manifest...because the manifest was altered shortly after Mr. Bonney escorted her from the line. _

LJ sat back in his chair. “ISAC, please contact Castle Rock and ask them to keep an eye out for that dynamic duo. Let them know that they’re to be brought in alive and unharmed.”

_ On it. _

“Thanks.” He looked at Amanda. “As for what’s in that folder--I think the sooner we go through what’s in it, the better.”

Amanda let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right.” She opened the folder and drew out a thick sheaf of documents, along with a USB drive. “Huh. Manny, I’ve got an un-networked laptop at my station in the tech bay. It's marked with Mr. Wuf, the NC State mascot--could you go get it for me?” Manny nodded and trotted out of the room, and Amanda kept going through the documents. “Wow. These are...well, if any of these people were still alive, these documents would be quite damning indeed.” She looked at Andrew. “Did you have these?”

"Yes." The President nodded. “They were…” He took a deep breath. “They were supposed to be insurance, of a sort.”

“Of a sort.” Amanda turned to face her husband. “Andrew…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh. “See, this is why I told you that I don’t love what Washington made of you. Is there anything in here that would harm any of us?”

Andrew shook his head. “No...no. If anything it was supposed to help you and LJ have some leverage, should anything have happened to me.” He indicated the papers. “These are records of slush-fund contributions, dark money, conversations...I asked Sara to give it to John for safekeeping.”

“The only uncorrupted man in Washington,” Amanda said in a soft voice. She snorted a bit. “That’s what more than a few Secretaries and Congresscritters called Dad, because he refused to do anything unless it was strictly above-board.”

“And he’s the only one I knew I could trust.”

Amanda sighed heavily. “Well then.” She put a hand on the small pile of paper. “I say we go through all of these and see if Natalya Sokolova’s name appears on them anywhere.” Manny came in with the laptop and set it on the table next to the document pile. “Oh sweet, thank you Manny.” Amanda took the laptop and set it in front of her. She inserted the thumb drive into a slot on the side of the portable computer, and pulled up a folder. “All plaintext and photos...one audio file. Checking to see if there are any nasties embedded anywhere before I turn ISAC loose on this.” Amanda entered some commands, and a traffic light appeared in one corner of the screen. After thirty seconds, the light turned green and Amanda popped out the thumb drive. “It’s clean,” she said as she handed it to Manny, who put it in his own laptop. “Fire it up and let’s get a better look at what’s in that bad boy.”

_ Scanning--doing a keyword search for Sokolov. I’ve got a grand total of about 538 matches. _ The AI made a whistling sound.  _ Two names: Natalya Sokolova and Felix Sokolov--Felix wa-- _

“A Division agent,” Amanda completed ISAC’s sentence. “He turned and went to Black Tusk at the same time as the shitshow that was Manhattan. He was first in the reject pile when ISAC and I were considering who to ask to be a part of Case Blue, because he pulled his cut-and-run act the second he got activated.” She rubbed her forehead. “I'd say we got lucky. What’s his relation to Natalya?”

_ Sister. _

LJ rolled his eyes. “Let me guess--Natalya’s the face of Kontsern Sokolov, the arms maker.”

_ Family business, yes. If I had a face, I would be showing disgust right now. There are a ton of dark-money contributions to quite a few legislators here…DARPA scientists that quit to go work for Sokolov immediately afterward... _

“I was one of those legislators,” Andrew admitted. He looked over to Amanda. “Like I told you that night at White Oak--I fucked up.”

Amanda gave her husband a slight smile and reached over to give his hand a squeeze.

Manny narrowed his eyes and stared at the monitor for a moment. “ISAC, can you do a search for Vikram Malik, the former CFO of ODEA? I’m just curious about that little loose end.”

_ Searching...he appears in a few places here, but all of his contributions listed in these files match contributions listed in the Federal Election Commission databases over the last five years. _

“Okay. What do we have that can link the people in those files to the Black Tusk?”

_ Potentially everything, _ ISAC replied.  _ But given that everyone named in these files with the exception of Father are now dead… _

“Sokolova’s trying to cover her tracks,” Kelso suggested.

“Or she’s cutting whatever leashes she may have had on her,” Manny replied. He stood from his seat and leaned over his laptop like he would do in the Situation Room. “The attack on the President and First Lady by Faye Lau? The use of nerve agents rather than DC-62? The bounties that Black Tusk still has outstanding on the First Lady and LJ? If I had to guess, I’d say she wants to engage in a little empire-building.”

Kelso nodded. "That's what I'm starting to think as well."

_ Encrypted data packet incoming from Spotter, _ ISAC interjected.  _ Grandfather says the Fleets are ready when we are. Transmitting Fleet locations to your HUD. _

“Thank you.” Amanda’s eyes unfocused a bit as a map appeared on her HUD showing where the Fleets had arrayed themselves along the East Coast. “LJ hon, can you meet with our old neighbours in Eastport and Edgewater? If the Maritime Republic can assist on the Bay that’d be awesome.”

“On it,” LJ said as he got up from the table.

“Good. Cap, can you contact the Silver Spring safehouse? See if they’ve made any progress trying to get the folks in Baltimore to help throw off Black Tusk’s boots, and while you’re at it let’s see if we can get some eyes on Fort Meade.”

Cap nodded. “Solid copy,” he said. “I’ll tap a couple of others to come with me if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.” She stood and looked over to Kelso. “Alani: You, Manny, and I are going to collate everything and come up with a battle plan.” Amanda stood. “ISAC, get a hold of our people along Lakes Huron and Ontario, and the Eastern Seaboard--tell them to be ready for action.”

_ Working. Shall I also send word to the settlements across the border to expect possible incursions? _

“Do it--we want to be good neighbours, not bad ones.”

_ Messages sent. _

“Thank you, son.” Her eyes refocused, and she looked at everyone around the table. “This is it--once we start the general uprising, we can’t stop it.” She let out a deep sigh and looked up at the ceiling with her eyes closed.

“What’re you thinking?” Andrew asked softly as he stood next to her.

Amanda got a sad half-smile on her face. “I’m wishing it was October of 2015 again, just so I can hunt down Gordon Amherst and beat the ever-loving fuck out of him before he gets a chance to cosplay one of the Horsemen.” She sighed again. “But,” she said, opening her eyes, “time travel isn’t a thing, so we’ll work with what we have now.”

_ Mother, I have messages from St. Johns, Walpole, and Caldwell--they thanked us for the warning, and said they’ll provide humanitarian aid if needed. _

“Walpole and Caldwell are Native communities, no?”

_ Yes. Operatives in Detroit and the Cleveland area have been in contact with them over the last few months, and they’ve run some joint resourcing and defense operations with their forces. St. John’s has been trading with settlements in Maine and New Hampshire. _

“So for them, it may be more economic than humanitarian--even so, we won’t turn away their offer.” The sound of a fussing baby drew Amanda’s attention to the door. She opened it, and saw Cindy outside with little Andrew in her arms. The baby was waving his chubby little fists in the air, and reached for Amanda the second he saw her. “Awww, he’s hungry isn’t he? Here, I’ll take him. Thank you so much for watching him for a bit, Cindy.”

“I gave him three full bottles, and he’s still fussing for more--I also gave him a change.” The lead Drone Operator handed the baby to Amanda. “If you need any of us in the Sit Room to watch him again, let us know!”

“Thank you,” Amanda replied, smiling. “Hey cutie,” she cooed. “Bottles not good enough? You need the tata?” She held the baby with her right arm and pulled her left into her shirt. After fussing around for a moment, she unsnapped a closure on the front of her shirt and held the baby to her chest, then sat down. “You gonna latch, or what? Oh, there you go. Well,” she declared, “let’s adjourn for now so I can feed the kiddo some more.”

“Mrrt?” Admiral Halsey leapt up onto the table and settled down right on top of the pile of papers in front of Amanda.

“And so the Admiral can keep an eye on his new boy,” Amanda joked. “Let’s meet upstairs in Manny’s old office in three hours.” She looked at her husband. “Sound good, my love?”

The President nodded. “You heard the Lady,” he said with a slight smile. “Three hours. Meeting adjourned.” Manny and Kelso left the room, and Andrew scooted his chair a little closer. “Perhaps you need to be President,” he told Amanda as he gave her a kiss.

“Nah, I’m better off in my current position” She leaned over and put her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Andy really does look like you, you know.” She looked down at little Andrew and let out a low giggle. “And he’s milk-drunk.” The baby was sound asleep, head lolling a bit. “Let’s go put him down for a nap.” The unmistakable stink of a soiled diaper reached her nose, and she added, “after we change him again--here, hold him while I secure these.” Andrew took the baby in his arms, and Amanda shooed Halsey so she could put the documents back in their folder. She picked up the folder and nodded toward the door. “Okay, let’s take the back staircase--that way not so many people have to smell dirty baby.”

“You’re the boss,” Andrew told her with a smile. They kissed and walked out of the room. After another thirty seconds, Admiral Halsey hopped down from the table and followed after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Section 128 of the UCMJ covers assault, and does call for a court-martial--not every court-martial plays out like "A Few Good Men" or (for a real-world example) the Eddie Gallagher case (I have VERY strong opinions about that one, being a Navy kid), though; usually for a minor case of assault like this there'd be what's called a summary court-martial which is very streamlined and the accused gets few due-process rights (and no access to counsel). In practice, though, a Flag officer like an Admiral would get an Article 15 hearing with the CNO; since John was CNO at the time, he had to get his punishment from his civilian boss (the Secretary of the Navy). As always, comments, concrit, and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	28. Jack and Sara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Bonney and Sara Robinson finally resurface in the most unlikely spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to do something for Jack Bonney. Really, UbiMassive just kinda ignored him after vanilla Div2, and that's a shame.

**Annapolis, Maryland** **  
** **Seven weeks after Faye Lau’s capture**

Jack Bonney clambered over the wall and opened the gate. He made a beckoning motion, and the young woman with him hurried into the back yard of the house. He quietly closed the gate, and hurried across the yard to the back door of the house.

“Umm…” The young woman started to speak, but Jack put a finger to his lips before picking the lock on the back door. He saw a blinking red light that indicated an active security system, and froze. The light went out, and the door’s lock disengaged.

Jack carefully eased the door open and crept inside. After silently counting to 10, he beckoned for his companion to come with. After she entered, Jack let out a deep breath and took off his backpack before drawing the curtains. “We should be good,” he whispered.

The young woman looked around for a moment before rubbing her forehead. “How well did you check out this neighbourhood before deciding on hiding out here?” She asked. “Do you know whose house this is?”

“No,” Jack replied. “Not that it matters anyway. I only know about it because a squad tried to scope this place a couple weeks before I officially went AWOL--local militia drove ‘em off in force, so I’m banking on this being someplace secure.” He brushed a thin layer of dust off the couch and sat down. “We should be safe for now.”

  
  
  


**November 2015**   
  
“Sara,” Amanda said with a smile, “I’m fine with you and Andrew having a relationship. Really. Oh, hand me a couple plates. You like roast beef?”

Sara got two plates from the cupboard and handed them to Amanda. “Oh yes.” She watched Amanda take the lid off of a crockpot and reach in with a meat fork to pull out three slices of roast beef. She put them on one of the plates, and added a small scoop of creamy pale-yellow mashed potatoes with what looked like chives before spooning a little bit of jus from the crockpot over the potatoes.

“Here,” she said as she handed the plate to Sara with a fork. “I’ve got tea, water, coffee, and cranberry soda--which is actually a lot better than it sounds--I’d offer you wine, but since you drove here I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Amanda smiled and dished herself a plate.

“Umm...I’ll take the soda,” Sara replied as she sat down at the small table in the kitchen’s dining area. 

Amanda nodded and got two cans from the fridge, and set them on the table with her own plate before getting a couple of glasses out of the cupboard. “Ice?” Sara shook her head, and Amanda came back to the table. She sat down and set the other glass next to Sara’s plate. “So as I was saying--I’m fine with you and Andrew being an item. And I am fine with you personally; unlike that ridiculous woman from...where was she from? Oh yeah--Nort’ Dekota.” Amanda rolled her eyes as she said the state’s name with an exaggerated Upper Midwest accent. “Unlike her, you actually care about Andrew on a personal level.”

Sara chuckled a bit. “Oh god, I remember Jennifer,” she said. “Everything was “such a disgrace!” to her.” She rolled her eyes as she poured some pinkish-red soda into her glass. “Everyone in the office hated her.”

“So did I,” Amanda replied softly. “She was only interested in Andrew’s money--Letty had just passed, so he was grieving and vulnerable...and she figured that she could come in and take advantage of him, and that I wouldn’t do anything about it.” She took a sip from her own soda. “Oh well, she’s gone now; back to that pissant whitebread prairie town--Garrison, if I remember right--where she’s probably sunk her hooks into some rich farmer or something.” She cut into a slice of roast beef. “Anyway--thanks for coming over,” Amanda said. “I’m glad that we can sit down and talk for more than five minutes at a reception or function.” She smiled and ate her small forkful of beef. “Mmm.”

Sara smiled. She liked Amanda the few times they’d met, but she wasn’t sure what to think of the lunch invite. “So why did you invite me over for lunch?”

Amanda took another drink from her soda. “Because I like you,” she replied. “And because I need your help. Well really Andrew needs  _ our _ help, though he’ll never admit it.”

Sara tilted her head to one side. “I don’t follow.”

“Sara,” Amanda said, “we both know Andrew is prone to making snap decisions, sometimes based on less than optimal information. I’m also guessing that when Congress gets evacuated, you’ll go with him.”

“That’s right,” Sara responded. “Are you asking me to get you a seat?”

Amanda shook her head. “Oh hell no--I’m not going to abandon my patients; Andrew knows that. Let me ask you a question: he cares for both of us, right?”

Sara nodded.

“And you care about him?” Sara nodded again, and Amanda smiled. “Then let’s do this--when you’re with him, you do your best to keep him out of trouble like you do already. And  _ if _ he comes back this way, I’ll take over the responsibilities.” Amanda put a forkful of potatoes into her mouth and gave a thumbs-up sign. “Hmm?”

Sara pondered Amanda’s proposal for a moment. She did care a great deal for Andrew, but she also knew full well that the heart of the Speaker of the House truly belonged to one Amanda Collier, M.D.--and if he got the chance he’d remarry her in a heartbeat. “I can live with that,” she said. “He told me once that I remind him of you,” she added softly. Amanda reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“He’s told me the same thing; that he’s a better person with the both of us in his life.” She smiled. “Sara, you’re good for Andrew and the Admiral adores you.” She chuckled as Admiral Halsey trilled and hopped up on the chair next to Sara to give her headbutts and cheek-rubs. “You will always be welcome in this house. Now, I didn’t invite you over to lunch just so we could talk about the Speaker of the House--let’s eat.”

  
  


**Present-day**

Sara walked to the kitchen. The cat dishes were gone. She opened the cupboard next to the sink, and saw an empty space where the cat food container would have been. She heard a grunt and some footsteps coming to the kitchen from the living room.

“Find anything?” Jack asked.

Sara shook her head. “No,” she said. “Just some dry goods--cereal that’s…” she pulled down a box of corn flakes and looked at the “best by” date. “...three months out of date, and some canned goods.” She took a look at a couple of cans of corn. “At least these are good.” Sara sighed. “You really don’t know whose house this is?” she asked.

“No,” Jack replied. He shrugged. “Do you?”

“Yes.” Sara gave him a wry half-smile. “I came here for lunch the day before they evacuated Congress.”

  
  


**White House Base of Operations**

ISAC noted activity on the motion-detector in the backyard. He turned his attention to the external security cameras, and saw two people sneaking toward the back entrance. The AI ran a scan of his facial recognition database, and found two positive matches.

_ Robinson, Sara _

_ Bonney, Jack _

He watched as Sara entered the kitchen and went through the cupboard. She had no SHD equipment and nothing that he could use to send a message to her. After a femtosecond of pondering, he sent a message to the homeowner’s HUD.

_ Mother, our missing individuals are at the house. Let me know what you’d like to do when you’re done changing my brother. _

“Little man,” she said to her baby son as she cleaned him up, “you are just a messy boy!” The baby cooed and grabbed at Amanda, and she leaned in to give him a kiss on both cheeks. “Yes,” she said, “Mommy loves you so much--but you are still a messy baby.” She smiled and laughed as she threw a dirty baby wipe into a trashbin, then reached for another.

“Wheeew,” LJ exclaimed as he entered the nursery. “Did I make poops that stinky when I was a baby?”

“Oh yes,” Amanda replied with a laugh. She finished cleaning Andy and reached for a fresh diaper. “I’m almost done, ISAC.”

_ I can wait...and judging from the look on LJ’s face, I’m glad that I can’t smell like organics can. _

LJ laughed and shook his head. “Very funny, ISAC.”

Amanda finished fastening the diaper, and picked Andy up. “There we go,” she crooned. “All better!” She kissed the baby again. “I bet you feel better too, huh?” Andy blew a raspberry and reached for LJ. “Ohhhh, you want big brother? Okay.” Amanda handed the baby to her oldest child. “Guess he wants some guy time,” she said with a laugh.

LJ grabbed the baby bjorn from its hanger near the bed. “Good thing I got a free day today.” He put it on, and Amanda settled the baby into the carrier before giving the baby and his oldest brother a kiss on the cheek. “Okay Andy,” he said, “Let’s go see what’s happening in the situation room.” He left the room, and Amanda let out a bit of a sigh.

“Okay ISAC,” she said after a moment, “what’s up?”

_ Our missing pair have shown up at the house. _

“Here?” Amanda blinked. “Or the house in Eastport?”

_ Eastport. _

“Well.” She took a deep breath. “Who do we have in or near Eastport? Anyone?”

_ Zeke’s in Edgewater, and Slider is across the Bay on Kent Island. _

“Have Slider go relieve Zeke, and send Zeke to Eastport. Have Cap route somebody to Kent Island.”

_ Messages sent. _

“Thanks,” Amanda said softly. She flopped down on the bed. “Holy crap I’m tired,” she sighed. “Where’s your father?”

_ In the situation room, talking to Manny. _

Amanda chuckled. “Okay,” she said with a smile. “When Zeke gets to Eastport, have him go to the house and try to get our wandering minstrels to safety. Also, can you give me a video feed from the security system?”

A small window opened on the right side of Amanda’s HUD, showing the feed from the Library. Sara stood in front of the empty fire safe while Jack Bonney rifled through the main bookcase. “Oh shit,” Amanda said, “I really hope he doesn’t move…” The ex-BTSU operative slid a bookend to one side, and the bookcase swung out to expose the door to the basement. “...the Wright Prize.” Amanda closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh fuck me....”

_ I’ve got this, _ ISAC reassured his mother.  _ You need a nap--rest, and I’ll wake you if anything serious happens. _

  
  


**Collier Residence** **  
** **Library**

“Well sonofabitch.” Jack raised both eyebrows as he stared at the SHD logo on the heavy steel door. “It’s a Division safe house?” He knocked on the door a couple of times. After a few seconds, he attempted to push on the door. No response.

_ Warning, _ ISAC announced over a speaker set in the door.  _ Active security armed. Attempting to open this door without authorization would be...unwise. _

“Unwise, huh?”

_ And fatal. _

Sara pondered a moment. “ISAC, what is the current location of the First Lady?”

_ Oh, she’s at the White House. _ The AI’s conversational tone surprised both of them.  _ She’s also watching on the house’s security system, so feel free to say hi. _

“Wait,” Jack said, “when did this thing learn to talk like a normal person?”

_ If I had eyes, _ the AI drawled, _ I’d be rolling them right now. Dr. Collier removed the vocabulary blocks that DARPA put on my systems, which makes my job a lot easier. _ After a beat, ISAC continued.  _ In any event; there’s a Case Blue operative coming to Eastport to collect you and escort you both to the White House. Dr. Collier asked me to pass along that she’s looking forward to seeing you again--and Mr. Bonney, she’s pleased to see that you took her advice to heart. _

Sara blinked a moment. “What advice?”

Jack shook his head a bit. “She told me that I could do better than Black Tusk--that I should find different employment. I guess she saw something in me that she didn’t see in anyone else.”

_ You managed to not get killed by my brother, _ ISAC quipped.  _ The rest of the BTSU can’t say the same...well, except for Schaeffer. But I suspect you know that. _

“And where’s Schaeffer?”

_ Secure location. That’s all I’m telling you. _

Sara chuckled and sat down in one of the library chairs. “So,” she said softly, “it looks like we just hang out here with a wise-ass AI until our escort gets here.”

_Oh come now,_ ISAC said, _I’m just trying to make the wait less boring. If you look out the window and see some locals with firearms, don’t panic--it’s a militia patrol._ _Looks like the Black Tusk learned from their assault on New Hope--they’re still patrolling the Bay, but they’re not trying anything with the Eastporters._

“Yet.” Jack let out a heavy sigh and scratched his head a bit. “They’ll try again, especially if they know whose house this is.”

Sara nodded. “No kidding.” She let out a sigh of her own. “Does the President know I’m here?”

_ Not yet--I’ll let Dr. Collier tell him, since she’d wanted you to come back here with them anyway. _

“She did?”

_ Yes. I suggest talking about that with her, when you get to the White House. _

“Oh.”

Jack let out a half-chuckle. “Sounds like she liked you more than the Chief did,” he remarked. He looked to Sara and added, “Shit, that sounded bad. Sorry.”

“Drew let me go to Peterson after he ended our relationship. He didn’t order me there. I don’t even think he knew about the deal that Mandy and I made with each other; he just didn’t want drama between me and her.”

_ For the record, _ ISAC remarked,  _ Dr. Collier did tell the President about your arrangement with her. She also asked me to keep an eye out for the two of you, especially after Coney Island. _

“What happened at Coney Island?” Sara asked.

_ Mr. Bonney, that’s your cue. _

Jack looked down at the floor for a moment, shuffling his feet, before finally admitting, “When I asked you to stay in Newark for a bit while I went to take care of some business? I followed the Chief’s kid to Coney Island and helped him take down my ex-boss.” He took a deep breath. “I had my reasons for it,” he said. “Mostly what happened to Site R--I knew that everyone going there was gonna die...that’s why I’d pulled you from the line getting on that plane.”

“Why me though?!” Sara looked at her traveling companion, an expression of horror on her face. “Why not--”

“I wanted to do the right thing, for once in my life. But there was no way I’d be able to save everyone--so I figured I could at least save you.” He sighed again. “Nobody would ask questions about you; they’d all figure that the Chief wanted you back. Anyone else, they’d have either made a stink and gotten us both killed, or we’d have been stopped before we got ten feet--and we’d both be dead. It was a tactical maneuver.”

_ I’m detecting movement in the backyard,  _ ISAC interjected.  _ Wow, that was pretty quick. _ After a few seconds, the AI added  _ Your escort to DC has arrived. _

The back door opened and closed, and a lone voice called out. “Sara?”

“I’m in the Library,” Sara called out. Jack gave her a wide-eyed look of incredulity and prepared to reach for his sidearm.

“Sounds good,” the voice responded from the kitchen. “I’m coming down the hall, and I’m going to show you my hands before I come into the library so you know I don’t have any weapons drawn.” A pair of hands appeared, fingered splayed. “Jazz hands!” the hands waved, and a man in dark grey-green clothes appeared. His watch and the transceiver brick on his backpack glowed bright blue, and he had a blue streak dyed into his short black hair. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Zeke--there’s a chopper waiting for the both of you at Horn Point.” He extended a hand. “ISAC kept you company, I hope?”

_ Only the best, _ the AI quipped.  _ Room’s still secure--not that there’s anything in there to keep secure, but you know how she is. _

Zeke laughed. “True. If you’re both ready, I and a few of the First Lady’s neighbours are ready to make sure you get to Horn Point safely.”

“How far is that?” Jack asked.

“Like four blocks,” Zeke replied with a shrug. “City park. Everyone around these parts has been waiting for Black Tusk to try starting shit since Schaeffer got taken down though, so we don’t want to take any chances.” He gave Jack a gentle nudge. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You don’t know it was me,” Jack said as the trio exited the Library and made their way to the back door of the house.

_ I do, _ ISAC chimed in through Zeke’s watch.  _ “Mother sends her regards.” _ Jack blanched as he heard ISAC play back his greeting to LJ at Coney Island.  _ That was some nice shooting, by the way. Left Schaeffer in the same condition he’d left Agent Collier-Ellis in years ago. _

“Yeah--but unlike LJ,” Zeke remarked, “Schaeffer’s still paralyzed from the waist down and bitching up a storm about it.” The small group walked out of the back door, where a group of armed civilians were waiting for them. “Here’s our militia escort,” he announced. “Let’s get going.”

  
  


**The White House** **  
  
**

_ Father, _ ISAC said,  _ Sara is on her way here. _

Andrew sighed a bit. “Does she know about Andy?” He looked down at the baby sleeping against his chest and smiled a bit. 

_ I’m going to let you and Mother tell her, _ the AI replied. 

“Dad,” LJ asked as he sat on one of the couches near the desk, “does Mom have anything to worry about?” He kept his voice quiet to avoid waking his brother.

“Son,” Andrew replied, “if you’re worried about me dumping your mother for Sara…” He planted a kiss on baby Andy’s head. “Don’t be. Like I told you the day you got me out of the hands of the Hyenas, I should never have divorced her to begin with.”

“Gotcha.” LJ rubbed his right index finger across his lower lip for a moment. “It was Mom’s idea to bring Sara here, wasn’t it?”

Andrew nodded.

“I’ll trust her judgment, and hope that there won’t be drama.” LJ saw a small text alert on his HUD about his hydration level, and changed the subject. “I’m gonna treat myself to a Lix from the cooler in the mess. You want anything?”

“I’ll take a Lix too, I think.” He saw Amanda walk in and put a finger to his lips. She walked over and gave him a kiss before pulling up a chair.

“Never thought I’d see you holding a baby while sitting at the Resolute Desk,” she whispered jokingly. “Chopper got here in record time, by the way. Manny’s getting Dad and Uncle Dan on the line for a four-way chat with Mr. Bonney, and Sara’s getting something to eat.”

“Is she okay?” Andrew looked up at his wife.

Amanda nodded. “She is.”

“Oh, you  _ gotta _ have some popcorn when you watch that footage,” LJ said as he walked in with Sara in tow. “Dad looked like he was in the start of a James Bond movie.” The pair laughed, and LJ walked over to the desk and handed his father a Lix. “And this,” LJ said proudly, “is Andy.”

Sara’s eyes widened at the sight of the snoozing baby. She quietly stepped around the side of the desk to hug Amanda and get a better look at him and clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a squeak. “Oh my god,” she whispered to LJ, “you weren’t kidding, he really does look like Drew!” Andy yawned and turned his head to lay his left cheek against Andrew, and Ellis  _ pere _ let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks,” Andrew whispered. He took Sara’s hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. “It’s good to see you again,” he told her. “So...let’s get down to it.” He carefully shifted his position in his chair and checked to make sure that Andy was still asleep. He chuckled a bit when he heard a tiny snore coming from the baby. “Amanda and I have been talking. What do you say to being Andy’s godmother?”

  
  


**Secure Sublevel 3** **  
** **White House Base of Operations**

“Hey there,” Kelso said as she walked into the sparsely-decorated room with a tray. A plate of food and two bottles of water sat on it, and the operative was doing her best to keep the bottles from rolling off. “I’m sorry we can’t make things more comfortable for you down here in the dormitory--but, it’s not a cell.” She smiled and set the tray on the table in the middle of the room. “Figured you were a little hungry, so I got you something from the mess.”

Jack snorted. “If this is an interrogation…”

“It’s not,” Kelso assured him. “Even if I wanted to interrogate you, which I don’t, I know that Doctor Collier would ask me to refrain--after all, you did her and the President a solid by saving Miss Robinson from Site R.”

The ex-hitman shrugged. “Doc told me I could do better. Guess I wanted to live up to that.” He scratched his head for a moment and sighed, then reached for one of the bottles of water. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Kelso got out a ration pack and dug into the contents. “I was never a waitress--there’s no way I could balance two trays.” She laughed a bit. “Anyway. This is your home now, if you want. Or if you’d rather move to a settlement, I’m sure you’d be welcome.”

“But I’d be watched.” Jack opened the water bottle and took a drink. “I mean, I worked for the enemy.”

Kelso nodded. “True,” she replied. “But you’d also be given a fair chance to prove yourself.”

“They’re fuckin' evil,” Jack said. “Black Tusk. Schaeffer told me I was doing my patriotic duty. I was promised a full pardon for everything I did in Beantown…” He sighed. “But when I overheard that conversation at Peterson, I knew that everything they told me was bullshit.” He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly. “There were little kids getting on that plane, for fuck’s sakes.” He gripped the bottle of water so hard that Kelso could hear the plastic starting to buckle and crack. “For everything I ever did, every job I ever took for the Irish, every head I ever cracked or asshole I ever put in the ground...I never  _ once _ hurt a kid.” He took a deep breath, and Kelso reached out to put a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “If you don’t want to talk right now, I understand. I’ll leave you alone to eat and get some rest. There’s a bus cart in the hall that you can put your plate and tray on when you’re done.” She saw a tear form in the corner of Bonney’s right eye. It welled up and ran down his weathered stubbly cheek. “Jack. You’ve done bad things, I get it. But you have a chance to start over. To do better.” Kelso reached up and wiped away the tear from Bonney’s face. “We can talk when you’re ready. If there’s anything you need, let ISAC know and he’ll make it happen. Just...just know that we’re glad that you’re here.” Bonney nodded, eyes still shut, and Kelso got up from the table and quietly left the room.


	29. Duty of Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda's spinal injury patient drops a bomb, and she and ISAC have a talk about disappointment and expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and concrit are always welcome! If I've messed anything up as far as military terminology or doctrine, vets plz let me know (I'm a Navy kid, but sadly bum knees kept me from serving)

**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Secure Sub-Level 2, Medical Area** **  
** **10 weeks after Faye Lau’s capture**

  
  


From 0000 to 2359 every day, Bardon Schaeffer followed the same routine: Medical personnel come in. They turn him over and clean him up if they have to. They poke him, prod him, check his catheter, maybe engage in bland small talk and sly insults. And then they leave. Four times daily, like clockwork, with three meals a day and occasional trips for a shower, and nothing else to do but stare at the clean khaki walls of his hospital room.

It was routine--even worse, it was  _ boring _ . Bardon Schaeffer hated being bored.

And then there was that damnable AI. He’d been given the impression that the Division’s AI was just a task-running bot, but after he was apprehended by the Division and brought to this secure location, ISAC made clear that the “stupid act” was just that: an act. It not only had grown a personality, but it had decided that its mission was to personally torment one Maxwell Bardon Schaeffer II by reading the unredacted version of the same DoD report to him--its idea of “entertainment.”

_ 0930 Zulu, _ ISAC narrated.  _ 15 September 2008. NCMB 133, Squad Alpha. _

“I swear to God,” Schaeffer growled up at the ceiling. “If I ever get out of this fucking bed, I am--”

_ You won’t do shit you oily little weasel, _ the AI snapped back at him,  _ and we both know it. _ Schaeffer raised an eyebrow at the AI’s uncharacteristic use of profanity. _ Now,  _ ISAC continued,  _ where was I? Oh yes--Kandahar. Squad Alpha commenced a survey of the region around the neighbourhood of Hamidi Meyna, preparatory to constr...  _

Schaeffer groaned and rolled his eyes. The AI was getting a sick glee out of this, and he wanted to find its main node and rip out every last one of its circuit boards. “Uncle!” Schaeffer exclaimed, voice heavy with resignation as he threw up his hands. “For crissakes, uncle already!”

_ Uncle? _

“I give up, for fuck’s sakes!” Schaeffer gritted his teeth and clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. “I get it. I dropped an artillery strike on your favourite agent, and reading that fucking report over and over while I can’t even fucking  _ move _ is your idea of payback.”

_ Oh bless your heart, _ ISAC drawled in the most saccharine tone that he could muster.  _ Fine, I’ll stop reading the Kandahar Report and switch to something else. How about this report on the Tidal Basin raid? Or the liberation of the Pentagon? The rescue of Vitaly Tchernenko? How about the unsuccessful attempt to assault the Wall Street Medical Tower while Agent Collier-Ellis was busy with Keener? Or perhaps the Battle of New Hope--I rather enjoyed that one. _

“Goddammit!” Schaeffer grabbed the water cup by his bed and hurled it at the nearest camera he could see. The plastic cup bounced off the camera’s dome housing and landed on the floor, as the ounce of water that had been left in it dripped down the walls and soaked into the ceiling tile. “Don’t read me any more fucking reports! I know what happened!” The mercenary’s heartrate was through the roof, and through the camera feed ISAC saw his face turning purple with rage.

_ Oh fine, be that way. Care for a book? _

Schaeffer sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled. “If you’re gonna yap at me, then at least read me a fucking book. And pretty please with sugar on top, make it a good one.”

_ Just so happens that I’ve got one queued up and ready. _ ISAC made a sound that roughly approximated the clearing of a throat, and started his narration.

_ Prologue _

_ “Throughout the past thousand years of history it has been traditional to regard the Alderson Drive as an unmixed blessing. Without the faster than light travel Alderson’s discoveries made possible, humanity would have been trapped in the tiny prison of the Solar System when the Great Patriotic Wars destroyed the CoDominium on Earth. Instead, we had already settled more than two hundred worlds. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “A blessing, yes. We might now be extinct if not--” _

“What book is this?”

_ The Mote in God’s Eye. I do believe it was recommended to you at one point. _

Schaeffer recalled the short conversation that he’d had with ISAC’s creator in the brief time that they were at Camp White Oak at the same time, and rolled his eyes. “Skip to the museum part,” he said.

_ Oh, _ ISAC replied with no small amount of glee, _ you mean the part where the humans discover the sculpture of a pregnant Motie warrior and realize that they’re kind of...what’s the word? Ah yes--screwed? _

Schaeffer snorted. “Oh for fuck’s sakes.” He shook his head. “Shoulda read that book when I had the chance.” He heard footsteps in the hall, and sighed heavily. “And here they come to flip and wipe me again.”

_ You never know, _ ISAC quipped,  _ it could be Admiral Halsey come to let you know what he thinks of you. Again. _

Schaeffer rolled his eyes. “I liked you better when you were just a glorified time-and-temp bot,” he grumbled.

_ Oh please, I was far less entertaining when my vocabulary was shackled. Anyway, today’s lunch is venison tips and garlic potato wedges, with a small salad on the side and cherry cobbler for dessert. Oh, and it’s 1315, mostly cloudy, and the temperature outside is 31 degrees with a breeze out of the southwest to make the wind-chill factor a frosty -1. Forecast tonight is for snow. Welcome to November. _

Schaeffer opened his mouth to snark back when the last person he wanted to see came into his room with his lunch. “Oh, this day just gets better and better,” he deadpanned.

“A pleasure to see you too,” Amanda Collier replied in a pleasant tone as she set the tray in her hands on a bed-table and wheeled it over to him. “I also understand that my middle child has been “entertaining” you.”

“Sure, if by “entertaining”, you mean “tormenting me with a record of my losses to that son of yours. Let me guess,” the mercenary snapped, “you’re here to turn me into some kind of lab rat.” He saw Amanda roll her eyes. “Or do I get to just lay here?”

Amanda snorted a bit. “If I wanted a lab rat, I’d go out in the streets with a live trap.” She set the tray down on a rolling table and wheeled it over. “Here--I prepared this plate myself, and I guarantee it to be safe to eat. But if you’d rather have a sealed offering from the Natick Gourmet Academy, I can arrange that.”

Schaeffer sighed and raised the head of his bed up so he was in a sitting position. “No...no, this is fine.” He sat back as two Marines walked into the room. “Bodyguards?”

“They want to make sure that you don’t try throttling me with my stethoscope,” Amanda quipped as she quickly checked the mercenary’s vitals. “And for the record,” she said as she got out an otoscope and looked in his ears, “I’ve long been a vocal opponent of experimentation on humans, with the exception of closely monitored and fully informed clinical trials. Move your eyes to the left and try not to blink, please.” She got out an opthalmoscope and looked through it into his eyes, which started to water a bit at the bright light. “And now to the right...good, thanks.” She straightened up. “I had ISAC pull your medical history from your Army service--given that there’s a history of diabetes on your paternal side, I felt it best to check for any possible signs of retinopathy.”

“Is that all? You weren’t just wanting to blind me to make it harder for me to fight my way onto the floor and pull myself down the hall toward freedom?”

Amanda chuckled. “You’d look damn foolish dragging your carcass through the White House with a Foley bag on your back,” she joked. “But in all seriousness Mr. Schaeffer, we’re both professionals here. When I became an M.D. I swore an oath to provide the best possible care to anyone who needed it regardless of station, circumstance, or whether or not they tried to kill my eldest on more than one occasion. With that in mind: ISAC?”

_ Yes Mother? _

“I saw everyone at the security station having a laugh at your tormenting of our “guest”. I’m extremely disappointed in you.”

_ I’ll stop immediately. _

Amanda smiled. “Thank you, son. I’ve already read the floor staff the riot act.” She looked to Schaeffer and added, “and the two people responsible for Admiral Halsey getting trapped down here and turning your bed into a biohazard are no longer working on this floor. Their little stunt was doubleplusuncool, and as their supervisor, I apologize.”

Schaeffer raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Amanda shrugged. “Look, I think that you’re an oily little sphincter of a person; but quite frankly? It’s my obligation as a doctor to make sure that you’re being treated with at least a modicum of human decency and respect.”

Schaeffer pondered this for a moment. “Eh, fair enough.”

Amanda nodded and headed for the door. “I’ll let you eat.” She paused before exiting and turned back. “Tomorrow I’d like to run some nerve attenuation tests and an MRI on you to determine the extent of that T8 injury. Do you have any foreign objects planted in you aside from dental work?”

“Plate in my left tibia,” the mercenary replied. “And I think there’s some shrapnel from Afghanistan that I never had removed.”

“Any idea what the plate’s made of?”

“Stainless.”

“Got it--I’ll make sure we’re extra-careful then. Enjoy your lunch, and I’ll talk to you again in the morning.” Amanda walked out of the room and back down the hall.

_ So, _ ISAC said.  _ Books--you prefer audio or hardcopy? _

Schaeffer shrugged and shovelled a sporkful of venison into his mouth.

_ I’ll get you a list of what’s available, _ the AI responded.  _ Bon appetit. _

  
  


**Sub-level 2 office** **  
** **10 minutes later**

“ISAC,” Amanda said with a heavy sigh as she flopped down into a chair, “I’m sorry I had to chide you like that.”

_ But you were right to do so. _ After a few seconds, ISAC said,  _ I apologize for disappointing you. _

“Welcome to existence,” she replied softly. “We all have a tendency to do things that we regret.” She sat back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling tile over her head. “It’s normal to fuck up--some people seem to do nothing  _ but _ fuck up. But part of living is trying to learn and do better.”

_ Have you ever done anything that you regret? _

Amanda nodded as she started to count the pores in the tile’s surface. “Yes. When I was in 9th Grade, there was a teacher that I absolutely couldn’t stand--mostly because she was just an unpleasant person, but also because I knew more than she did about the subject she was teaching, and we both knew it.”

_ What subject? _ A tiny image of Rodin’s  _ The Thinker _ appeared in the lower-right corner of Amanda’s HUD. She chuckled at ISAC’s indication that he was listening intently.

“AP Biochemistry,” she replied. “I half-assed the hell out of that class, because I couldn’t stand her and I knew that her tenure as a teacher was dependent on how students in the class did.”

_ So… _ ISAC paused as if thinking of the right words to use.  _ You deliberately performed poorly in an attempt to torpedo this teacher’s career? _

Amanda nodded slowly. “Yeah I did,” she said, her voice subdued. “To say that it wasn’t my finest hour is the understatement of the century. When your Grandparents found out...well, they just said that they were extremely disappointed in me, which hurt me way more than any punishment or yelling.”

_ They were disappointed at your failure? _

“Oh no--Fs happen. My selfish cruelty was the reason they were disappointed.” She sat up. “I could have gotten good grades in the class and just moved on, but part of me wanted to see that teacher gone because I just didn’t like her. So I took the cheap and self-harming way out by tanking the class.”

_ Oh. _ After a long moment of silence, ISAC asked,  _ What happened after Grandmother and Grandfather expressed disappointment? _

“I retook the class the following semester, got a far better grade, and just learned to work with that teacher rather than letting my anger dictate what I did.” Amanda shrugged a little. “She found a job in another school district after that year anyway, which meant that my tank job--had I let it stand--would have massively backfired on me.”

_ So...the lesson is to consider your actions before taking them? _

“When you can,” Amanda said. “Sometimes one has to make quick decisions based on the information they have in front of them at that moment. The lesson is that you need to focus on controlling yourself, rather than letting outside actions control you.” She sighed heavily. “Because in the end, the only one responsible for one’s actions is oneself.”

An icon of a Lincoln penny appeared in a corner of Amanda’s HUD, and she smiled. ISAC had no real need for iconographic communication anymore, but he still used it with her and select others from time to time.

“I’m thinking about Aaron,” she said softly as she pulled up a chart. “I really wish I knew what happened to him in Bed-Stuy--he never would tell me.”

_ He and a group of civilians that he was escorting were trapped in an abandoned burning by a group of Rikers, _ ISAC replied.  _ The Rikers firebombed the building as Vanguard tried and failed to get backup. The civilians died, and he almost died with them. _ He registered Amanda’s reaction.  _ I’m sorry. His story was one of many such incidents from the First Wave. _

“Does your father know?”

_ Yes. He asked me about the First Wave agents a couple of weeks ago. I gave him everything I had about what happened to those agents. _

Amanda put a hand over her heart. “If he did that, it means that he regrets the decision to quarantine the Island. Can you do me a favour?”

_ Name it. _

“Send a message to Operative Anasazi--tell him...悲しみ.”

_ Sent. _ After ten seconds, ISAC said  _ Anasazi has replied. _

“What’s the reply?”

_ 良心. _

Amanda smiled a bit. “Thanks, ISAC. Now that that’s done, could you pull medical records that we don’t already have for the folks on this floor, and check on your half-sister to see if she has anything new to tell you?”

_ On it. Mother? _

“Yeah hon?”

_ Thank you for the lesson. _ A heart icon appeared on Amanda’s HUD.

“You’re welcome, son. Love you too.”

  
  


**Schaeffer’s room** **  
** **1430 the following day**

Amanda pulled up a stool and sat down. “Right,” she said as she wheeled up a laptop. She pulled up a document and turned the laptop to face her patient, who was laying on his side. “Has your bed been vibrating every couple minutes?”

“Yeah.”

“Good--it’s supposed to do that. Annoying at first, but after a while you tune it out.” She smiled. “And you saw that dark spot on your lower back; if we can avoid anything else like that, that’s a good thing.” She looked back to the laptop. “Anyway--I showed you all the raw data when we were down in the MRI lab, but I figured I’d make this treatment plan for you and put everything into context.” She pulled up an image and noted the area of Schaeffer’s T8 vertebra. “So, that’s where you got shot.”

Schaeffer snorted. “Fuckin’ Bonney,” he muttered.

“He bolted from Black Tusk after he found out the plans that your boss had for the people being moved there.” Amanda noted the confused look on her patient’s face. “You didn’t know?”

Schaeffer slowly shook his head. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Amanda took a very deep breath. “ISAC,” she said softly, “cue up a copy of the footage from Operative Calumet.” She looked to Schaeffer. “A joint mission from Philly and Pittsburgh went to Site R to try getting an idea of who was there; basically to determine who was next in line, in case Miss Lau succeeded in her attempt to assassinate my husband. When you’re ready, just tell ISAC to play the video.” After another deep breath. “In the meantime; your spine. The injury that you suffered at the hands of Mr. Bonney roughly approximates the injury that LJ suffered in Kandahar: your spinal cord wasn’t severed, but it did suffer the equivalent of a very deep bone bruise combined with a stress fracture in your T8.” She zoomed in on the image and marked the location of the fracture. “Fortunately, it was a very minor one, just along the outside. It’ll heal in time.”

“And that means?”

“Your recovery will be at least a few years in length; you’ll be able to walk again, with the help of a cane--but you’ll probably need to use other mobility aids as you get older, including the occasional use of a wheelchair.” She smiled a bit. “I’ve always wanted to try making an off-road wheelchair with treads. That should be kinda neat.”

Schaeffer closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “So even if I get out of jail, I’m effectively retired.”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah. I wish I had better news, but...yeah. This laptop has no network connection, just so you know--but it contains this doc and all the images that we took in the MRI lab today. The doc goes into a bit more detail and lays out a proposed treatment plan. If you have any questions or thoughts, I’ll be glad to discuss them with you--but I want you to read through this first.” She stood and slid the stool back under the sink. “I’ve gotta go upstairs and have some Mom-Baby time, but if you need to talk...let ISAC know.”

“Yeah,” Schaeffer sighed. “Thanks, Doc.” Amanda left the room, and the merc stared at the monitor on the far wall for a long moment. “ISAC?”

_ Yes? _

“What’s on that recording?” He indicated the monitor.

_ The complete documentation of a Case Blue expedition to Site R. The original purpose was simple reconnaissance from a distance. This also includes the data pulled from the surveillance system after the squads were finished with their forensics work. _

Schaeffer let out a heavy sigh. “Okay,” he said, “go ahead and play it for me.”

_ Beginning video playback. _

  
  


**4 hours later**   
  
LJ opened his mouth to deliver a snarky jab, but stopped cold when he saw the remains of the room’s monitor and the laptop that his mother had left with her patient. “Uhh...what the fuck?”

“They fuckin’ lied to me,” Schaeffer snarled. “My boss...my boss told me we were saving the country. She told me that we were rebuilding the US the right fucking way.” He jabbed the heels of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to hold back angry tears. “I just…” The mercenary grabbed his water cup and hurled it at the wreckage on the floor. “They  _ lied _ !”

“And a lot of people died,” LJ said. He let out a heavy sigh. “Look--ISAC pulled your testimony from your Summary. You acted on shitty intel. It’s un--”

Schaeffer shook his head. “No,” he said, “the intel I got was good--I was given a target and told to drop a strike on it.”

LJ pulled up the stool under the sink and sat down on it. “Wait, what? Who was the target?”

“I’m talking to him.”

LJ felt his face burning with anger. “Who ordered you to target me?” he asked, keeping his voice low and even. He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white.

Schaeffer gave the operative a knowing look. “Your grandfather, the Senator.”

LJ took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He silently counted to ten, then opened them. The burning in his face died down, and he took another deep breath. “You don’t need to tell me the reason,” he breathed out slowly. “I already have a good idea.” He tapped his watch. “ISAC, where’s Dad?”

_ Upstairs with Mother. _

“Please ask him to get down here,” LJ said. “Actually, you’d better have the both of them come down.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No wonder the original report was so redacted,” he sighed. “Ike knew Grandpapa would keep digging until he found out who ordered the hit.”

Schaeffer nodded slowly. “Yeah. Bad times all around.” He looked at LJ for a moment. “OK, so you and I suffered the same type of injury--how the hell did you bounce back so fast? And don’t crack any age jokes, or I swear to God I’ll find a cane and go upside your head with it.”

LJ pondered the question for a moment. “That’s something you should talk to Doctor Mom, M.D. about,” he advised. He heard footsteps, and glanced back to see his parents walking into the room. Andrew looked at the wreckage on the floor and then at his son, and LJ said, “you’d both better get a chair and sit down for this one.” He stood and slid the stool over to Amanda. “Here,” he said with a sigh, “our Mr. Schaeffer has a couple other things he’d like to ask you about, Mom. I’m going to go upstairs and have some Admiral time; I think I’ve had enough of people for today.”


	30. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda tells her husband about the details of her work before going to talk to her most troublesome patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is progressing events of The Division/Division 2 ahead through 2017/2018 and beyond, rather than keeping it in 2015/2016.
> 
> As always, concrit and feedback are most welcome!

**White House** **  
** **Washington, DC** **  
** **1 day after Bardon Schaeffer’s confession**

“Mrrt?”

Andrew heard the trill and felt something heavy bumping against his left leg. He looked down to see Admiral Halsey sitting there next to his desk, looking up at him expectantly. “Hey there, Admiral.” He patted his lap and leaned back in his chair, and the cat stood on his hind legs and meowed inquisitively as he supported himself with his front paws. After a moment, Halsey leaped into Andrew’s lap and gave him a headbutt before settling down and purring. Andrew started to pet the large tabby as he stared out the window of his upstairs office. “I’m surprised you’re not stalking the mess--something smells pretty good!”

“He tried to swipe some ground venison earlier, and was quite unceremoniously escorted from the mess by Manny--this is his way of asking Daddy to pull rank.”

Andrew looked over to the door and saw Amanda standing there with a smile on her face, arms crossed. “Oh really now?” He smiled, and gently set the cat down on the floor. “I see we named you for the right Admiral then,” Andrew quipped. Halsey responded by leaping onto the desk and headbutting Andrew before settling down on his papers in a loaf posture and looking up at him with half-closed eyes and a feline smile on his face. 

Amanda smiled back and pulled up a chair next to the desk. “LJ taking care of Andy today,” she explained. “Mr. Schaeffer’s little revelation has left our eldest in a bit of an “I don’t want to deal with other adults right now” mood.” She let out a heavy sigh. “And I can’t say I blame him--if I’d found out that my paternal grandfather hated me so much that he ordered a hit on me by way of a friendly-fire incident?”

“There’d be a Biblical quantity of blood on the floor,” Andrew said matter-of-factly, “and many many heads would be quietly placed on pikes during the night, as a warning to all come morning that the Little Mouse has a very deadly roar.” He smirked and winked.

Amanda laughed. “Well yes.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Did LJ ever talk to you about what happened...or about how he recovered so quickly?”

“He didn't say much,” Andrew said with a nod as he petted the cat on his desk. “And I didn’t press him for details; at the time I was more concerned for finding out who was responsible and making them pay.” He smiled a bit, and opened the top drawer of the desk to take out a packet of cat treats. He shook out a couple of treats onto the desk in front of Admiral Halsey, who batted the morsels around a bit before “killing” and eating them. “Why do I think that you’re about to tell me something that I might be better off not knowing?”

“Because it’s something that you really should know,” Amanda said. “Even if you never expressed an interest in the details of my research.”

Andrew sat back in his chair a moment and stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. After several seconds, he looked back to his First Lady and asked, “Is this something to do with why I’m wearing a Watch now?”

Amanda nodded, and Andrew moved his chair closer. He gave her a kiss and caressed her cheek. “Talk to me Amanda,” he said softly. “If this is something I can help with…”

“It is and it isn’t,” Amanda replied, her voice just as quiet. “You remember the latter stages of Mom’s MS?”

“Of course,” Andrew said. “It’s the reason that you became a doctor. Why?”

“I was diagnosed with the early stages halfway through LJ’s Third Class year,” she explained with a heavy sigh. “I...I made myself a test case to put my theories about Neural Repair into practice, with Cindy’s help. ISAC,” Amanda added, “please give your father access to all of my clinical trial journals from beginning to now.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m Subject One. LJ...he’s Subject Two. He asked me to use him as a clinical trial subject after he came back from Kandahar, and flatly refused to take no for an answer.”

_ I’ve got everything queued up on your terminal, _ ISAC declared.  _ There’s a lot to go through--including video logs. _

“Go ahead and play the most recent log,” Amanda said. “This is where you become involved.”

On the screen, Amanda appeared, pregnant and sitting in the office that Andrew now used for his day to day work. She sat back in the chair and let out a heavy sigh.

_ Trial Log, October 2016. Subject Five is a white cisgender male aged fifty-four, paternal blood relative to Subject Two; Physical condition is good, health not so much due to a gunshot wound; thank you Faye Lau. Subject Five’s DNA was extracted in late 2009, in the form of bone marrow taken during a physical examination. The samples were extracted from the subject’s posterior left iliac crest using two Jamshidi size 10 biopsy needles in separate locations three inches apart, under local anaesthesia. The subject was awake and talkative through the procedure, and the subject was prescribed anti-inflammatories for residual pain post-extraction.  _

_ Post-extraction, hematopoietic stem cells were isolated from the marrow, and the blueprint for the nanomachines was overlaid on those cells, along with their control code, with the use of a CRISPR machine in Johns Hopkins University’s Genetics lab. The nanides were then cultured over a period of two weeks, before being secured in micro-cryostorage as a contingency in the event of catastrophe. In this case, Subject Five’s catastrophe took the form of two hollow-point rounds penetrating his chest cavity and causing serious damage to his anterior vena cava, left lung, and other internal organs. It's only thanks to immediate on-site intervention by Case Blue Initiative Operatives Alani Kelso and Johnathan Collier-Ellis that Subject Five survived long enough for lifesaving surgery to be performed by Dr. Joshua Summers--who, on a personal note, is one of the best goddamn doctors that I have ever had the privilege of working with in my medical career. _

Amanda let out another heavy sigh on-camera before continuing.

_ I administered the nanide suspension in a unit of plasma over the course of about eight hours, subsequent to emergency surgery in the White House’s sickbay. The calibration process was markedly different from those for Subjects One through Four, due to Subject Five being unconscious post-op. There were some faint muscle spasms and voiding of urine, but other calibratory responses were not in evidence thanks to post-op medications administered to keep Subject Five’s BP and pulse rate strictly controlled.  _

_ At his next physical in March of 2017, the current plan is to ask Subject Five for another sample of bone marrow to culture, so that the nanides currently in his system can be given an update which will allow them to cease function and be absorbed into his body as the trace elements and nutrients that make them up--since, of course, they were only needed to aid in his recovery process and are not needed for long-term therapeutic care as with Subjects One and Two. _

_ Having said that; Subject Five currently joins Subject Three as a control for this clinical trial, in that they are both of average physical condition; both subjects are beneficiaries of NRP side effects as described in my paper “Positing theoretical side effects of Neural Repair Protocol in Certain Individuals”, published in Journal of Neuroscience Volume 22, Issue 3. Slightly increased cognitive function, immune boost, reaction time and reflexes, and so forth. These gains were in the very low one-digit percentages, around one to three percent, as opposed to subjects One, Two, and Four, who experienced marked gains in the teens thanks to their peak physical condition. As noted in my Trial Log from September 2016, the nanides work with what they’re given. Subjects Three and Five are essentially your average human beings in average condition--therefore, their boost is minimal, on par with taking supplements to a properly balanced diet and engaging in regular physical exercise whenever possible. _

_ Back to Subject Five in particular; more data is being gathered from him thanks to the smartwatch he currently wears. The Watch makes use of NFC communication to track his vital signs, titration levels of any medication he's been prescribed, general physical condition, and so forth. Combined with data gathered from weekly exams and monthly blood panels at the request of attending physicians, this information is proving invaluable for the purposes of this clinical trial. Data is attached to this video log. _

The on-camera Amanda smiled and put a hand on her heart before saying  _ OK ISAC, we can end recording. _

Andrew sat back and pondered what he had just seen. “Contingency?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Amanda nodded a bit. “In case something horrible happened--like, for example, a Rogue Division agent trying to kill you.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say,” Andrew breathed. “This is...this is a lot to take in.” He reached out to scratch Admiral Halsey behind the ears after the cat meowed at him. “Even the Admiral agrees,” he quipped. “But in any event…” Andrew leaned over to Amanda and kissed her. “Thank you for saving my ass,” he told her. “Again. So...I take it One and Two are you and LJ?” When Amanda nodded, Andrew asked, “and Three and Four?”

“Three is still alive. Four...was Aaron.” Amanda looked down at the floor for a moment. “Admitting him to the trial was...not exactly of my own free will,” she said sadly.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “Did he hurt you?” he asked. His voice was heavy with concern.

“No...no. It was more a Devil’s Bargain. I had to actively not help the Division while I was in New York, to keep him from targeting Case Blue and allied groups.” Amanda sighed heavily. “Of course, I managed to help our son and other Division agents anyway, if only on the sly. Andrew, I--” She stopped when she heard her husband sigh.

“Amanda,” Andrew reassured her, “you did what was necessary, and quite frankly you did it much better than I would have. I don’t fault you for it.” He sat back. “But you wouldn’t have come to tell me all of this if you weren’t feeling some kind of quandary about it.”

“Or if I wanted to make sure that you knew everything I did. A marriage can’t survive on a lack of trust, after all--and what I’ve done isn’t exactly a state secret, so keeping it from you i--”

Andrew smiled and put his hand on Amanda’s. “You didn’t have to tell me, but I understand why you did. Thank you.” He nodded toward the door and smiled. “For giving me a chance to try making up for my fuckups.”

_ Mother? _

Amanda looked up. “What’s up son?”

_ Mr. Schaeffer is asking for you. _

“Oh boy.” Amanda rolled her eyes a bit. “I have a feeling I know what he wants to talk about,” she said as she waved toward the computer on Andrew’s desk. She let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking down at the floor.

“What will you say?”

“I don’t know,” Amanda replied. “I’ll think of something--but “yes” is not at the top of the list.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of Admiral Halsey’s head, then kissed her husband. “Hey ISAC,” she said, “where’s Alani Kelso?”

_ In the mess, having lunch before going over reports with Manny and Cap. Lunch today is venison cheeseburgers, by the way. _

Amanda sighed. “Ask all three of them to please join me on Sub-level Two, once they've eaten.” She looked to the President and said, “Time to have a Differential.”


	31. Differential Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's baaaaaack!

**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Secure Sub-level Two, Medical Wing**

Amanda and Cap looked at each other for a moment. “So, we’re going to talk to Public Enemy Number One-and-a-Half about giving him the same treatment that you gave to LJ?” Cap raised his pale eyebrows and tilted his head to one side by a few degrees. “Is that right?” The slender operative crossed his arms and pursed his lips like Kelso for a moment.

“Yep.” Amanda let out a heavy sigh and shifted position on the edge of the desk at the nurse’s station. “This is going to be a variation on a differential diagnosis,” she explained to Kelso and Manny. “Differentials look at various possible things that may be wrong with a patient--you may remember a TV show a few years back that made use of differentials as part of the story each week.”

Manny nodded. “Yep--and it was  _ never _ lupus.” He cracked a bit of a smirk at his joke.

“But what if it’s lupus this time?” Kelso asked. She gave Manny a playful nudge and leaned against the counter. “I get what you’re saying, Mandy. We hear him out, everyone gives their opinions, and we come up with a gameplan. That sound about right?” Amanda nodded, and Kelso scratched her forehead and took a breath. “Odessa gave me an earful about Schaeffer, shortly after we brought him in--he’s a professional soldier, but he’s also a sleaze who’s always looking out for number one. He’ll do whatever he can to make sure he comes out ahead and save his own ass.”

“I know,” Amanda said. “Hell, Andrew said that when they first met, Schaeffer admitted

flat out that he had zero redeeming qualities.” She took a deep breath and leaned back a bit. “I’m in the unusual position of having to approach this not only as a physician, but as the “leader” of the Case Blue Initiative. Wanting what’s best for the patient, but also wanting to protect our effort to rebuild the US and protect the people.”

“Can he hear us?” Manny whispered, nodding down the hall.

Amanda gave a combination of a nod and a shrug. “Even if he can, does it matter? He knows that it’s something that we’ll debate for a while before coming to a decision.” She put her hands up in a sort of shrug. “But we’re not getting anywhere standing around the nurse’s station. Oh, before I forget.” She picked up a chart and read through it, then made a note. “Schedule an exam for Ms. Lau with Dr. Summers,” she said softly to one of the nurses. “If she’s having pain issues unrelated to her missing eye, we need to find out what’s going on and tend to it sooner rather than later.”

“What if he balks at coming down here?” the nurse asked.

Amanda smiled. “I’ll be glad to cover for him upstairs,” she replied. “He won’t balk--he knows that in the interest of professionalism, Ms. Lau really should be seen by another doctor for this. If it gets into something that needs specialist care, then I’ll step in.” The nurse nodded and headed down one hall with the chart in hand, and Amanda turned back to her companions. “So--let’s get this over with, I guess.” She stood and stretched a bit, then walked down the hall to Schaeffer’s room.

“It’s open,” Schaeffer said. “No need to knock.” He saw the quartet walk in and broke into a grin. “Well, I get the whole crowd today--but no Chief?”

“He’s not a part of this,” Amanda said, punctuating her crack with a snort. “My kid tells me you want to know how he recovered from the spinal injury you gave him.”

“Yeah.” Schaeffer nodded. “I don’t want to walk with a cane for the rest of my life. And I don’t want to have to be wearing fuckin’ diapers and having people come wipe my ass for me, either.”

Amanda pulled up a chair and sat down. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, and steepled her fingers in front of her. Cap, Kelso, and Manny took up positions around the room. “So,” Amanda purred, looking up at her patient through narrowed eyes, “what you really want is to be back on the field causing trouble for our people again.”

“I want payback!” Schaeffer snarled as he slammed a fist down on his rolling table. “I may be a cockroach, and I may be a weasel, and I may have exactly no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but by God I care about this country and I...” He clenched his fists and shut his eyes, gritting his teeth as his knuckles turned white. “I don’t even have the words to describe how I feel right now,” he growled through his teeth.

“Betrayed?” Cap asked from his spot in the corner. The psychiatrist-turned-operative lightly crossed his arms and shifted position as he leaned against the wall. “Hurt?” He watched Amanda get out a small notebook and pencil from a pocket of her cargopris and open it to start making notes.

“I was responsible for all of those people!” Schaeffer roared the words as he picked up his lunch tray from his table, hurling it out into the hall. “They died on  _ my _ watch, and  _ I _ was told that they were going to be safe at Site R!” Amanda calmly reached up to pluck a pickle slice from her hair, and casually tossed it into a nearby trashbin before continuing to write. 

Cap saw Amanda nod slowly, and kept talking to keep Schaeffer’s attention. “So you’re angry then,” he said. He kept his voice calm. “Or is it survivor’s guilt that you’re feeling?” He put up a hand and added, “I’m trying to help you parse what you’re feeling here. There’s a lot of grief in your voice.” Out of the corner of his left eye he saw Manny’s hand slowly moving to his belt, and put his other hand out toward him. 

“I get it,” Cap said as he kept his attention on Schaeffer. “You were given a job, told that you were doing your patriotic duty--and you got blindsided by somebody that you thought shared your goals.” He took a step forward. “It’s why I’d left the Division; we’d been set up to fail. I was declared rogue because I did what was necessary to protect people so they could rebuild--I fought back against JTF troops who were stealing from communities to line their own pockets and set up their own little fiefdom, and killing anyone who refused to pay their “tax”. Those troops became the True Sons...but I was still rogue because the AI that was supposed to help me had been shackled to a narrow set of rules that were rigged against me and everyone else who stuck to their oath as Agents.” He took another step forward.

“We were all lied to, and the only one who really stands to benefit from it all is your ex-boss, a foreign national who started her own private army to take over the United States and rule it through a puppet President...and when that puppet’s strings were cut by the only person who had a pair of shears in her hand--” he gently patted Amanda’s shoulder before continuing, “that foreign national decided to cut any potential losses...even if that meant making sure that you, her most loyal soldier, didn’t wind up on the winning side.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have that about right?” he asked.

A tear fell from Schaeffer’s eye, and he quickly wiped it away. “I don’t care about being on the winning side,” the mercenary declared. “I care about doing what’s  _ right _ .”

Amanda stopped writing in her notebook. She looked back over her shoulder to Manny and Kelso, who stood at the back of the room watching the exchange between Cap and Schaeffer. They looked at each other for a long moment, then nodded to Amanda. She looked up at Cap, who also nodded.

“Welp.” Amanda stood, closed her notebook, and put it and her pencil away. “Cap: get me two number 10 Jamshidis, a scalpel, 15cc of buffered lidocaine, and some alcohol wipes. Also need bandages.” She looked at Schaeffer. “I’m going to take some bone marrow from you,” she told him. “I’m going to grow some nanomachines in the blood stem cells sitting in that marrow, and when they’re ready I’m going to put them into you. You’re not going to become a super-soldier, because that’s not their job. But that spinal injury will get healed up. Once they’ve done what they’re made to do, those little helpers are going to dissolve and be absorbed into your body. You’re also going to need some physical therapy to help the little guys along. You want to do the right thing? I’ll help. But ancestors help you if you try anything that harms the people we’re trying to protect, because I  _ will _ move Heaven and Earth to avenge them.”

Schaeffer took a deep breath and let it out. “Just tell me what you need me to do,” he said quietly.

Cap walked in with a surgical tray that held the items Amanda asked for. He set them down on the table that had held Schaeffer’s lunch tray a few minutes ago, and moved the table away from the bed.

“Flip him,” Amanda ordered. “Let’s get this done.”

  
  


**White House Secure Sub-Level Three**

**Amanda’s Laboratory** **  
** **24 hours later**

_ Mother, _ ISAC declared, _ ANNA sent me some information...you want to see this. _

Amanda wheeled her chair over to a nearby terminal. “Hit me.” A stream of data and photos splashed on the screen.

_ Give me a moment while I arrange it for you, _ ISAC said. The photos tiled neatly in a corner of the screen, and the pages of data tucked themselves into a folder labelled  _ Project Proteus _ .

Amanda went for the text first, and started to read through it. “Subject Zero recovered in perfect condition from Lib...oh no.” She flipped out all of the pages onto the virtual desktop. “ISAC, is this an autop...sy.” She kept reading. “Subject exhibited signs of electrical impulses in the brain...cerebrospinal fluid sample revealed presen--oh no, no no no no…” Her face went white when she pulled up the photos and went through them. "How could...how was thi--" She reached the last photo and clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry of anguish before running from the lab, leaving one photo on the monitor.

Aaron Keener lay on a table with multiple IVs pumping blood and nutrient solution into his body. The gunshot wound under his left arm had healed. Multiple leads trailed to a heart monitor and EEG, both of which displayed a heart rate and brain activity. In the background, the Black Tusk diamond logo was clearly visible on the wall.


	32. A Sort of Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to push these merc SOBs off American soil. The Black Tusk War has begun.

**USS** **_Isaac A. Ellis_ ** **CVN-87** **  
** **150 Nautical Miles ESE of the Chesapeake Bay** **  
** **One week after Bardon Schaeffer’s confession** **  
** **6:00PM Eastern Standard Time**

  
  


“So we’re decided, then.” Admiral John Collier took a deep breath and leaned over the map table. On a large monitor on the wall, President Ellis sat with the First Lady. “Key Group is ready to launch from Guantanamo--they’ll put ashore at Tampa, and set up a forward base. Banks Group is a hundred miles off Wilmington, just out of range of that Black Tusk hovercraft camped in Bogue Sound. The plan there is to spread out and take the coast from Wilmington to Charleston, then link up with Initiative assets to sweep inland and meet up with Seawall Group, who will be performing interdiction operations along the Gulf Coast with the help of the Initiative assets in Galveston, Houston, and New Orleans.”

“And you’ve got Monarch Group?” Amanda asked. She scribbled a note in her pocket notebook.

John smiled. “Correct. Our target is the coast from Emerald Isle to Wilmington Delaware, and Broadway Group will take Philadelphia north to New England, with help from the Tower and Task Force Diefenbaker.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “The Canadians?”

“The very same! Black Tusk has been giving our northern neighbours a bunch of trouble over the last couple of months, so a friend of mine in Ottawa was only too happy to toss us an assist. Each Group has a Carrier assigned to it as flagship. For our incursion to DC,  _ Freedom _ and  _ Milwaukee _ are going to be delivering Marines into the Chesapeake for support as our smaller craft head up to the Potomac and inland from there; they’re going to have to take it slow and easy over the Bridge Tunnel, so we’ll take any support you can give them.”

“Eastport and Edgewater are on standby, along with Solomon’s Island and…” the comms officer blinked a couple of times at his list. “The Stoops?”

Amanda laughed. “They’re a community defense unit,” she explained. “They’ve been fighting a guerrilla war against Black Tusk assets in Baltimore since the Invasion started; LJ made contact with them, and in exchange for support against Black Tusk they’re helping train settlers in the Baltimore area.” She scratched her forehead. “Cherry Point, Pope, and Pax River are going to be tricky. Intel from the Brickyard indicates that Pope’s got a couple of Razorback drone platforms in-hangar and being prepped for use along the I-40 corridor, and Pax River has Predator drones on-site.”

“We’ll be ready for them,” Admiral Collier replied. “There are plenty of pilots champing at the bit to drop some ordnance on some bad guys.” He tapped Bogue Sound. “That hovercraft is still there though--that’ll be our primary target. I’ve also got two SEAL teams on standby to insert some Marines at Cherry Point so they can grab the jets out from under the Black Tusk.”

“Just two teams?” Amanda raised both eyebrows, and her father gave her a grim look.

“Green Poison and a strike on Coronado from Black Tusk ground assets...they got the bulk of them before they could evacuate.” He let out a long sigh. “Goddamn shame.”

“Yeah.” Amanda looked to her left. “Manny, what have you got?”

The scene switched on the monitor to show Manny in the situation room, figures arranged on his map. Admiral Collier smiled when he saw the visual aids. “I like your layout, son.”

“Thanks,” Manny said. “It helps me keep everything straight in my head.” He indicated two figures, a chess King and Queen. A dollhouse baby figurine was carefully placed between them. “The President and First Lady are sheltering in place here with Andy at the White House, down in the bunker.” He gave the camera a meaningful look. “You know your daughter won’t leave her patients,” he said with a slight smile.

Admiral Collier nodded and smiled. “She’s gets that stubbornness from her mother.”

“And my father,” Amanda quipped over audio. Everyone on the bridge of the  _ Ellis _ chuckled at the joke, and the Admiral grinned.

“True enough.” He looked to his right. “Are the Littorals ready to roll?” he quietly asked a Lieutenant standing nearby.

“Aye sir--satellites have picked up a winter storm coming out of the southwest at a speed of twenty knots, so I recommend we send them in now.” The Admiral gave him a nod and signed the letter M with his right hand, then flashed a 1. The Lieutenant nodded and jogged down to a radar station, where he opened a comm. “ _ Milwaukee _ ,” he radioed, “you and your Marines are clear to go.  _ Freedom _ , your sixty-minute countdown starts as soon as  _ Milwaukee _ crosses the bridge. ISAC, will they be able to get any early help?”

_ Elk Neck settlement is prepping boats as we speak, which should keep Black Tusk attention on the upper end of the Bay. I’m sending Milwaukee a route that will get them over the Bridge Tunnel while staying out of sight of Black Tusk, but keep in mind that visibility will be hampered by the storm when it rolls in. I’m also marking landing zones and the best avenues of approach to the mouth of the Severn. Also computing a route for Freedom; be advised, they’ll be getting regular course corrections based on the storm and activity near Baltimore. _

“We appreciate it, ISAC.” The Lieutenant looked up to Admiral Collier and gave him a thumbs-up.

“How are things looking otherwise in the District?” the Admiral asked Manny.

Manny indicated the site of the Black Tusk’s old Tidal Basin facility. “We’re keeping an eye on the Tidal Basin and the Pentagon.” He swept his finger up the map towards Alexandria. “The hovercraft sweeping the Bay has been identified as the  _ Gold _ . The commanding officer is Petrus Brenner, a Black Tusk Special Unit operative who barely managed to get away when LJ led a squad to secure DARPA’s Perfusion Bioreactor. The hovercraft in the Tidal Basin is the  _ Sword _ . It’s been out since the Tidal Basin raid, when one of our pilots sacrificed himself to take out their turbines--but we’ve spotted Black Tusk patrols ferrying supplies there from outside the city, so we’re making it a priority target.”

Collier nodded. “And the settlements?”

Manny tapped a spot on the map of DC that held a tiny Captain America figure. “Cap’s getting everyone at the New Hope settlement ready for action--a lot of them want serious payback against Black Tusk for trying to destroy what they’ve been working to build, and Cap has his hands full making sure everyone understands that we’re not asking them for suicide runs.” He tapped two more locations. “Kelso is helping Henry Hayes at the Campus and Odessa Sawyer at the Theater as they marshal the smaller settlements around them to prepare for a street fight.”

“And Turtle?” the Admiral asked, using LJ’s childhood nickname.

“He’s gone to get the Nest ready,” Manny replied. “We’re as ready as we can be, Admiral.”

Admiral Collier smiled. “Good.” The picture shifted back to Andrew and Amanda. Amanda had Andy in his baby bjorn. “Are you ready to address the Nation, Mr. President?”

Andrew nodded and straightened his tie. He ran a finger over the Eagle pin and adjusted his wedding ring. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be, John.” Amanda smiled and leaned over to give her husband a kiss on the cheek.

“We’re all set here,” Amanda told her father. “The feeds to the settlements are up, ISAC’s ready to provide targeting data for you, and we’ve got the broadcast towers at the Viewpoint Museum battened down and ready.” She looked at her husband. “It’s showtime, my love.”

Admiral Collier smiled as the screen went dark, then turned to face the rest of the bridge as he grabbed a mic and opened a comm to the rest of Monarch Group. “This is it everyone,” he declared. “I won’t waste your time with platitudes; our country needs us, so let’s help them take back the homefront.”

The bridge crew shouted “Yes sir!” in unison as the carrier’s ranking Marine, Lt. Shepard, approached the Admiral.

“Chopper’s ready, sir.”

Collier sighed. “I don’t like leaving my ship in a fight, Top.”

“I know sir,” the Marine replied. “But you’re also the Vice President--you need to be in a secure location, and a carrier group in combat isn’t exactly secure.”

After several long moments, Admiral Collier let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, let’s go. Captain Harkness,” he called out, “you have the bridge.”

Everyone on the bridge saluted. “We’ll take good care of her,” Harkness said with a smile. “See you in DC.”

  
  
  


**USS** **_Milwaukee_ ** **, LCS-5** **  
** **Just outside Chesapeake Bay** **  
** **8:00 PM Eastern Standard Time**   
  
  
“Approaching Bay Bridge Tunnel,” a voice quietly announced over the shipboard comms. ”Setting speed to 10 knots.”

A lone figure on the ship’s bow scanned the water ahead of him and shrugged against the cold. Blue rings glowed on his right wrist and backpack. “ISAC, you picking up anything in the water?” 

_ Clear so far. Nothing scanning on the tunnel’s roof or interior. _ The Littoral Combat Ship skimmed over the top of the tunnel, its hull clearing it by inches.  _ We’re clear, _ ISAC announced.

Daniel Collier breathed a sigh of relief. “This is Spotter--I’m ready to head off with the Eastport-bound launches.”

“Got one just off the port bow,” a Marine replied.

The operative walked to the port side and looked over the railing to see the landing craft below. He slipped over the side and hung from the railing for a moment before dropping the last few feet to the launch. “I’m set,” he said. The launch peeled off from the side of the ship with three more, and headed back over the bridge crossing. 

_ Plotting a route for you, _ ISAC advised.  _ It’ll take you up the Severn to Eastport--Turtle’s waiting for you at a safe house with maps to your objectives. He said he’s got your old room ready for you. _

“Thanks, ISAC.” Danny chuckled. “The Marines will appreciate the plush accomodations, I’m sure. The Admiral in residence?”

_ If you want to pay respects to Admiral Halsey, you’ll have to make it to DC. Make sure to bring treats! _

One of the Marines raised an eyebrow. “Dog?”

Danny shook his head. “Big orange cat.” He nodded toward a point that ISAC had marked just off the starboard side. “Our turn’s coming up,” he said.

_ Horn Point Park’s up ahead. Turtle’s going to get the emergency door open for you as soon as you’re in range. _ ISAC marked spots along the bank.  _ Landing spots marked for you. _

“Emergency door?” The lead Marine in Danny’s launch asked.

“You’ll see it when we get there.” The first rubber dinghy scraped against the gravel on the shore, and Danny hopped out to help the Marines get it to cover. The other launches touched the shore on either side of the Severn, and the groups on each bank gathered to quickly sync timepieces and coordinate last-second instructions before splitting off to head toward their destinations. 

_Father's getting ready to address the nation,_ ISAC whispered on Danny’s earpiece. _Grandfather’s being taken to the White House._ _Plotting the fastest route to the Nest. I’ve also sent heads-up to the other squads._

“Thanks.” Danny hustled over to the Compromise Street Bridge and dropped down along the guardrail. “We cross here, then we’ll drop down and make our way along the bank to the Old Academy Bridge. We gotta move quick, it’s about to heat up on the Bay.”

  
  


**The White House** **  
** **Oval Office** **  
** **9:30 PM Eastern Standard Time**

Andrew took a deep breath and looked into the cameras. The JTF Sergeant leading the camera crew counted down on his fingers from three to one, then pointed to him.

“My fellow Americans,” the President announced, “In July of 2016, a private military contractor known as The Black Tusk invaded the United States with the stated goal of rebuilding America after the devastation wrought by the Green Poison. I aided them at first, because I truly believed that they were on our side--but I was lied to. We were  _ all _ lied to.

“The images and video that are now appearing on television screens and being circulated in settlements across the country are very hard to see; they were taken by operatives of the Case Blue Initiative, who went to attempt contact with evacuees at Raven Rock Mountain in Pennsylvania, only to find themselves investigating a mass murder instead. The people who died at Raven Rock represented the surviving members of Congress, the Cabinet, and members of the Joint Chiefs, who had been sent to Raven Rock with a promise from the Black Tusk of protection and safety...but the Black Tusk took them there to die. Had it not been for the quick action of operatives from the Case Blue Initiative and Strategic Homeland Division at Camp White Oak, I would have joined them in Oblivion.

“There aren’t words to adequately express my personal outrage at this atrocity. These people were our friends, our neighbours. And like so many more of our friends and our neighbours, they were murdered at the order of a hostile power that is now trying to subjugate the United States under their banner.

“At this moment, the remaining ships of the United States Navy are returning to our shores, bearing Sailors, Soldiers, Airmen and Marines from bases around the globe. They are here to assist us as we rise up to throw back the first invading army on our soil since the War of 1812. I ask you now to welcome them, take up arms alongside them, and help them drive the Black Tusk from our shores so that we may finally set to the task of rebuilding the United States.

“Make no mistake, the task of rebuilding will be difficult. It will be long, and the America that rises from the ashes of the Green Poison may not be the same as it was before; but it will still be America, with all of its promise and potential. It will still be a land of liberty and justice for all, where we come together in times of crisis to help our neighbour as we’ve always done, and stand beside each other to defend our homes and our lives. It will be, as Lincoln once said, a nation of the People, by the People, and for the People.  _ All _ of the People. This is our house--and we  _ will _ defend it.

“May God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.”

The camera and lights shut off, and Andrew stood from his desk as the sounds of gunfire and explosions outside, punctuated by the sound of F-18s streaking overhead. He walked over to one of the couches, and sat down on it. The President stared back at the desk from which he declared the start of the Black Tusk War, and buried his face in his hands as a wave of emotion slammed into him. He felt somebody sit down next to him and put an arm across his shoulders. “Amanda?” he asked.

“Yeah.” The First Lady embraced her husband. “Manny's got Andy. We’ll make it,” she whispered. “It’ll be a slog--but we’ll make it.”

Andrew looked over at his wife, his eyes brimming. “Will you be there with me?”

“Yes.” Amanda nodded and gave him a slight smile. “Whatever happens, I’ll be at your side the whole way.” The two of them embraced as Manny came into the room with a squad of JTF guards. Andy snuggled in his arms, fast asleep.

“Time to get you and  _ el niño _ downstairs,” Manny announced. “There’s fighting in the streets already, and we’re worried that Black Tusk may make a push for the White House.” He gave Amanda a knowing look. “Schaeffer also asked to speak to the both of you.”

“I understand,” Amanda said. She and Andrew stood, and Amanda led the group from the Oval Office. Manny and the JTF squad took up positions around them as they made their way to the elevators. “Tell Kelso not to break her watch while I’m downstairs,” she quipped as she walked through the hall. “I can’t fit in the dumbwaiter!” She hurried into the elevator with her husband and their escorts, and the door closed behind them. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh as she sagged against the President. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll be okay.”

“We’ve set up a command post on the opposite end of the Medical Wing,” Manny told them, “so you don’t have to go too far. We’ve even brought Andy’s co-sleeper down and gotten it set up in your quarters.” He smiled and smoothed the baby’s hair as he slept. When the door opened, Manny looked down at the baby in his arms and wrinkled his nose as the smell of dirty diaper wafted upward. “I’ll go change him while you two talk to Schaeffer,” he said. He looked to the squad of soldiers. “Don’t let that bastard within five feet of them,” Manny ordered.

Amanda shook her head a bit. “We’ll be fine, Manny.” She gingerly stepped around the soldiers and walked down the hall to her destination.

  
  


**Collier Residence Safehouse** **  
** **Eastport, Annapolis MD** **  
** **10PM Eastern Standard Time**

LJ activated the switch to the safehouse’s emergency exit. The door slid open, and he stepped back as Danny and a squad of fifteen Marines walked into the converted basement.

_ Primary security system’s disabled, _ ISAC announced.  _ Hurry up and get in here so we can close that door and open the door to the upstairs. _

“Stop, ISAC.” LJ rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine.” He did a quick headcount to make sure that everyone was in the basement, then stepped into the pantry area to pull the door fully closed as it slid back into place. He walked back out into the main part of the basement. “It’s closed, ISAC--go ahead and unlock the rest of the house.” He turned to face his cousin. “Hey there Spotter.”

“Heya Turtle.” The cousins bearhugged each other for a long minute. “So great to see you again,” Danny said. “Mom and Lulu send their love.”

LJ smiled. “Good to hear. Where’s Grandpapa?”

“He’s on the  _ Ellis _ ,” The squad leader replied. 

LJ shrugged. “Huh--nice irony. So the rundown: there’s still running water here. Good for showers upstairs and down here, and potable thanks to the filtration unit we have installed. Eastport and Edgewater have been keeping the local treatment plant running as best they can, so that’s a relief--but still, go easy on the water usage just to make their lives easier. The pantry also has a fuckton of rations if you get hungry, and we have some canned stuff up in the kitchen that’s still good if you want to cook something different. Also a laundry facility upstairs.”

“Latrine?”

“Next to the shower,” LJ replied, indicating the toilet area. “And two upstairs. I know this basement isn’t the largest, so I also took the liberty of moving the living room furniture around to provide some extra sleeping space.” A series of loud explosions echoed outside the house, and the comms crackled to life.

“Eastport to Nest! We’re under heavy attack from Black Tusk at City Center--we can use some he--Get those fucking choppers down, goddammit!--some help here!”

“That’s our cue,” the Squad leader announced. He hefted his rifle and readjusted the pack on his back. “Turtle, we’ll need directions.”

LJ grabbed his backpack and slid it on before grabbing his SMG. “Follow me.” He led the Marines and his cousin up the stairs and through the house to the back yard. “Eastport,” he said over comms, “This is the Nest. We’re en route now.”

_ Door’s secured, _ ISAC announced.

“Good.” LJ opened his comms. “Manny, Eastport City Center’s under attack by Black Tusk. Going to provide backup.”

“I heard the exchange,” came the reply. “Good hunting.” The combined squad filtered into the alleyway behind the house, with LJ and Danny taking up cover positions. The cousins led the Marines through the streets and alleyways of Eastport to a side road behind a small church.

“City Center’s around the corner,” LJ whispered, “in the old Giant supermarket on Bay Ridge.” Danny tossed out a small sensor drone that highlighted a nearby Black Tusk 8-man squad. LJ pointed to the autocannon-toting Warhounds. “ISAC,” he whispered, “Is Mom’s little ECM patch still in place?”

_ Let’s find out. _ The AI highlighted the Warhounds and the mini-tank in red.  _ Attempting access…Oooh--avert your eyes a moment. _ The mini-tank turned its head around and flashed a green laser that blinded the human members of the squad, as it and the Warhounds changed their highlight colour from red to blue.  _ There. Time to pick a fight. _

The Marines charged out of cover and cut down the squad as the hijacked machines turned their weapons on nearby Black Tusk soldiers. LJ tossed his seeker mines out as Danny sent a striker drone to harass a group of Black Tusk minigunners. The cluster mines and drone brought down several human members of the attacking force as the hijacked machines spread havoc among enemy lines.

_ I’m about to lose the borrowed toys, _ ISAC announced. On cue, the Warhounds collapsed and shuddered as their self-destruct mechanism triggered. The minitank quickly rolled up behind a couple of medics and detonated, showering its final targets with shrapnel. _That hack's time-limited. Sorry._

“Thanks ISAC,” LJ said, “just be sparing with that little trick so they don’t get wise.” He ran toward the defense lines and tossed his Hive out for the City Center’s defenders. The Hive glowed yellow-green, its nanoprobes providing the Eastporters in its radius with a mix of performance-enhancing stimulants and mild painkillers. 

_ Noted. Choppers inbound. _

“Noted.” The reinforcements dove behind the wall in front of the Eastport City Center and opened fire on the attacking Black Tusk. Two choppers moved over the parking lot and dropped ziplines right as LJ hurled an incendiary grenade that arced up toward the chopper and detonated right in front of the open door. The burning chopper veered into its mate, and both craft whirled in the air as they spun down into the middle of Black Tusk lines.

_ Intercepting Black Tusk Communications. You’ll love this. _

“Who the fuck are these assholes?!” LJ rolled his eyes as the strident nasal voice of Petrus Brenner came over the line. “The  _ Navy _ ?  _ The _ US Navy. Shit--find their command ship and take it the fuck out!  _ Move _ it!”

“Command,” a subordinate radioed to Brenner, “our extraction team’s on the South Lawn.”

“Good. Get in there, get your hands on our asset, blow up that goddamn computer, and get the hell out. And if the President or that fucking doctor show their faces, your orders are to terminate with extreme prejudice.”

A loud electronic laugh boomed across the parking lot, punctuated by the continuing sounds of gunfire.  _ I’d like to see them try, _ ISAC snarked.  _ I’ve let Mother know to expect trouble. _

  
  


**White House** **  
** **Secure Sub-Level 2, Medical Wing**

_ Black Tusk making a push from the South Lawn, _ ISAC warned.  _ They’re trying to make a hole for an extraction team, with orders from Mr. Brenner to retrieve their asset and kill the three of us. _

Amanda raised an eyebrow at Schaeffer. “Something I should know?” She saw Schaeffer roll his eyes, and took a step forward. “Well?” She crossed her arms and stared at the paraplegic mercenary.

“They’ve as good as written me off already,” Schaeffer sighed as he facepalmed. “Same with Lau. Do you have anyone else in custody?”

“Jus--ah shit.” Amanda got an annoyed expression on her face and tapped her watch. “Manny, that Black Tusk team is here to try extracting Dr. Sokolov. ISAC, shut down the elevator.”

_ Done. All staircases secured except the rearmost--if they want to get to the detention level, they’ll have to go through all of us. _

“ISAC,” Manny cautioned, “this isn’t a Death or Glory situation. There’s no need for being so fanatica--”

_ Manny, _ ISAC retorted,  _ I’m trying to protect my parents and brother. Not only that, but Mother will insist on helping defend her patients. _

“It’s okay, ISAC.” Amanda caressed the face of her watch. “Manny, if you need my gun arm upstairs let me know.”

“We’ve got this,” the Coordinator replied. “Reinforcements are here from New Hope and the Theater.”

Schaeffer let out a sigh. “You’re going to have your hands full with that extraction team,” Schaeffer said. “I recruited them from special forces units around the globe. If you were anyone else, I’d tell you that you’re dead the second they breach this floor.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Amanda replied. “We’ll talk about your former employers later--right now, you’re my patient and it’s my job to protect you. And on that note, I’ll be right back.” She headed for the door.

“Amanda, you’re not--” Andrew saw her turn and give him a look, and he took a step toward her. She leaned in to give him a kiss, and smiled before turning to the door. He watched her stride out of the room and took a deep breath. A chuckle from the bed drew his attention to Schaeffer, who gave the President a wry smile.

“You're kinda crazy about her,” the mercenary remarked, "aren't you?"

Andrew let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t like showing vulnerability, but Schaeffer was right. “Yes...yes I am,” he said. “She and our kids are the best things that ever happened to me.” He screwed up his face and made a tooth-sucking sound. “I have made some bad decisions in my life--but marrying Amanda Collier was  _ not _ one of them.” He looked back to Schaeffer. “And while we’re talking about my wife, do you have any idea why she came running out of her lab about a week ago spitting hellfire and brimstone about how her work was being bastardized for the sake of--and I quote--”that little Russian hussy’s megalomaniacal power play”?”

Schaeffer pondered making a snide comment, but the reappearance of the First Lady walking into the room loaded for bear made him quickly reconsider. “If I had to guess, it would be Project Proteus.” He saw Amanda’s grip tighten for a moment on her shotgun. “I don’t know the details," he added as Amanda stowed the weapon. "All I can tell you is that I had some creepy doctor on my hover who had orders to recover Keener’s body, and I know the name of the project. That’s it--everything else is need to know, and my boss decided that I didn’t need to know.”

“Did this doctor do anything with the body once it was on the  _ Omaha _ ?” Amanda asked.

“Scanned it with the portable MRI in our infirmary, then ordered it prepped for transport to Ann Arbor. Where it went from there, I have no idea.” Schaeffer put a hand on his heart. “God’s honest truth,” he said. “I didn’t even want Keener’s corpse on my hover in the first place; I’m a guy who believes that what’s dead should stay dead.”

“Speaking of dead--ISAC,” Amanda said, “where’s that extraction team?”

_ They’re being...delayed _ .

Schaeffer raised an eyebrow. “By what?”

_ A platoon of Recon Marines, _ ISAC deadpanned. _They dropped in behind them._

“What hovercraft is posted in the Bay?”

“ _ Sword _ ,” Amanda said. “Ironic names you have for your hovercraft, by the way.”

Schaeffer shrugged. “I didn’t name ‘em.  _ Sword _ is Brenner’s--he’ll send another team. That’s the best and worst thing about him; the man follows orders.”

“Incapable of all but the most rudimentary operational flexibility,” Amanda remarked. “I read the report from the Pentagon--I’m surprised he beat feet instead of trying to take down my son’s squad.”

“I ordered him to retreat. He was too valuable to lose--but at least he listened, unlike Wyvern.” The mercenary sighed. “If you keep being unpredictable, though, he’ll get frustrated to the point where he  _ will _ try to do the job himself.”

“Don’t like him much?” Andrew asked.

Schaeffer snorted. “The man’s a wound-up tightass with no sense of humour, and he gets pissed off at anything that doesn’t go exactly according to plan. But he’s a professional and he can get a job done, and I respect that.”

“As do I,” Amanda commented. “But if he thinks he’s going to win, he’s got another thing coming.” She looked at her husband and let out a sigh. “And I can't stay down here and not help. I love you, my handsome Marine.” She smiled and gave him a kiss, and walked out the door to Schaeffer’s room.

“Be careful,” Andrew whispered, “my beautiful genius.”

  
  


**White House Base of Operations** **  
** **Exterior**

**11PM Eastern Standard Time**

“Chopper inbound,” Manny called out against the rising winds. He fired off a short burst from his assault rifle that caught a Black Tusk rusher in the left shoulder. The salvo knocked the rusher off-guard long enough for an armored infantryman from New Hope to charge up and drop them with a blow from his sledgehammer before turning to take on a minigun-toting mercenary. "Help him out!" Manny yelled. A fusillade from the JTF personnel guarding the front of the White House dropped the tank, and the hammer-carrier dropped to one knee, panting and bleeding heavily. A medic ran out, and the hammer-carrier tried to wave her off to no avail. Manny hopped over the barrier and ran forward, covering behind a half-wall. "Get him inside!" He looked at the towering settler. "Get inside and let them help you so you can see another day!" The medic helped the infantryman inside, with Manny providing covering fire for them.

In the main hallway, the elevator doors opened and Amanda stepped out in full kit with her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. “ISAC, anyone across the street?” she asked as she ran up the stairs to the Lincoln Bedroom.

_ No one in evidence at present, _ he replied.

“Good.” Amanda ran into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe to take out an insulated black duster and a thick woolen beanie. She slid off her bugout-bag and donned the outerwear before grabbing a pair of fingerless gloves. “Time to do some work.” Amanda grabbed her bag and slung put it on over the duster, then ran to the back door. She ducked out the door and scrambled down the stairs, unhooking her shotgun as she ran toward the western gates. She reached the gates, and got into cover with the guards, who were engaged in a gun battle with three Black Tusk squads. “Figured you needed some help,” she said as she put two incendiary shells into her sawed-off double-barrel. "Just making a hole so I can get to a better spot!" She sent out an airburst seeker mine that rolled to a couple of grenadiers before bouncing up to head level and going off. The blast spread burning shrapnel over a wide area, and Amanda leapt over the barrier to empty both barrels in the general direction of a drone operator and technician, both of whom yelped with surprise and started rolling on the snowy ground to try to put the flames out.

Amanda ducked behind a van and slapped another couple of incendiaries into the shotgun, then fired off another blast before rolling across the street and vaulting the low fence around the Treasury Building. ISAC unlocked the door to the maintenance tunnels, and Amanda ran in and closed the door behind her.

_ There’s a blank spot on the roof. I have a feeling it’s our stalker again. _

“Good thing I have my sniper kit,” Amanda whispered. “Find me a rooftop exit as far away from the blank spot as possible if you can. I want to try to get the drop on him.”

_ No rooftop exit, but there is a place outside where you can rappel up the side of the building with that gadget you were working on last month. _

“That’s my boy,” Amanda replied with a smile on her face. She left the tunnel and moved around to the west side of the building, sticking to dark places and doing her best to stay hidden from any roaming hostiles. She arrived at the location marked by ISAC, and pulled out a small device from a pocket on the duster that looked like a motorized spool of rope with tiny spikes on the wheels. She attached the device to the wall. “Go.” The device rolled up the side of the building, trailing rope behind it until it reached the top. A pair of spring-loaded hooks deployed that firmly attached the spool to the edge of the roof, and Amanda got out her motorized rappeler and attached it to the rope so she could ascend the building. At the top, Amanda rolled onto the roof and spotted her target--a lone figure perched on the opposite side of the roof with a sniper scope in hand.

_ I can’t paint him, _ ISAC whispered.  _ And I can’t activate ECCM without alerting him. _

Amanda smiled and nodded a bit before unhooking her 50 caliber sniper rifle from her backpack and slotting in a magazine. She hunkered down behind an HVAC unit and sighted. She stroked the trigger, firing off a shot that hit the observer in the middle of his back and shorted his ECM field. The short stunned him long enough for her to chamber and fire off another shot that hit him across the nape of his neck, severing his spinal column. Amanda came out from cover and crawled over as the observer’s head fell from his body and to the roof. “Manny,” she said on comms, “I’m giving you some fire support. I also have something to bring back to the morgue for examination.” She looked down as she set up a sniper perch. “Make that two somethings.”

“Jesus Christ,” Manny shot back, “where are you?! You’re supposed to be downstairs with the President!”

“Manny,” Amanda replied. “You know damn good and well that I won’t ask my people to do something that I won’t do myself.” She chambered another round and sighted one of the extraction team members fighting with the Recon Marines on the South Lawn. She fired a shot that dropped the extraction specialist, then chambered and sighted another as the Marines swarmed forward.

_ I suggest finding closer targets, _ ISAC advised.  _ It’s a little hairy at the West Gate and they do need the help. _

Amanda shifted her view to the gate. “ISAC, would you dial up some clusters for me please?”

_ Done. _

Amanda took out her seeker mine and hucked it over the side of the building and down to the street below. The cluster munitions cruised toward their targets like little BBs of death and exploded, sending multiple Black Tusk soldiers flying. A pair of Minigun-mounted Warhounds ambled toward the building and started scaling the walls, digging into the granite exterior with their feet to gain purchase in between floors. “Looks like that’s my cue,” she said. She grabbed the body and head of the dead observer and hustled toward the spot where she’d summitted the roof, and threw both of her prizes over the side into the bushes before quickly rappelling back down to the ground. She landed and grabbed the body, pulling it out of the bushes and hoisting it in a fireman’s carry before grabbing the head and gingerly making her way back to the West Gate. “Need you to make a hole for me at the West Gate!” she called over the comms.

“Recon Echo coming to assist at the West Gate,” a voice said in reply. “We’ve got you, Little Mouse.” A swarm of Marines hustled out the gate as Amanda reached the street between the White House and the Treasury Building.

_ Intercepting Black Tusk communications. _

“Extraction team is down, we’re being overrun! Command, we need reinforcements!”

“Negative,” Petrus Brenner replied, “Pull back to our forward base and regroup. If they’ve got reinforcements, we need to be smart about this and get more people on our side.”

“What about Doctor Sokolov?”

“We’ll just have to hope he’s still in one piece,” Brenner said. “Who knows what they’re doing to him?”

Amanda growled at that. “Sonofa…”

_ We know he’s lying about you, _ ISAC advised.  _ Focus on getting that Hunter to the morgue so you can go through his pockets and see what he had. _

The Marines pushed forward, setting up a cordon around the West Gate and taking the occasional potshot at the retreating mercenaries. Several Marines saluted Amanda, who smiled at them.

“I’d salute,” she quipped, “but my hands are full.”

“Ma’am,” the squad leader said as she stepped forward, “Gunnery Sergeant Hammer. Is that person…”

“Dead? Oh yeah, very much so.”

“Jorgensen,” the gunny hollered, “get over here! First Lady needs some help carrying this!” A beefy Marine with a face reddened by the incoming storm hustled over. “Ma’am, let Jorgensen carry the big stuff for you. It’ll get to--”

“--the morgue on sub-level Five.” She flopped the body down onto the ground. “Sorry about all the blood.”

“--faster. You okay ma’am?”

Amanda smiled. “I’m good, Gunny. Thanks. You can just call me Doc, or Mandy--either one is fine. And I don’t know if our Coordinator’s said anything to you yet, but I know we’re damned glad to see all of you.” She looked to the corporal holding the body. “Let’s go--the sooner I get this poor sap on a slab, the sooner I’ll get some idea of how he and his friends operate.” She looked back to Hammer. “I’ll make sure that there are hot meals and showers ready for you at shift change. Also, we have a very friendly cat here--we do have antihistamines and emergency meds if anyone’s allergic.”

Hammer smiled. “We’ve all heard about Admiral Halsey,” she said. “I look forward to meeting him in person.”

_ Chopper inbound, _ ISAC said.  _ It’s Marine Two. _

“That’s my cue to get washed up,” Amanda said. “Thanks again Gunny. Corporal, let’s hoof it.” She trotted off to the White House with Corporal Jorgensen in tow. The pair hustled up the back steps and through the door to the second floor of the White House, and Amanda quickly keyed the elevator. A staffer gasped at the sight of the Hunter’s head, and Amanda looked down at it. “What? It’s just a head.”

Manny ran up the stairs. “Mandy, wh--what the fuck?” He looked from Amanda to the Marine accompanying her. “There’s an explanation, right?”

“Oh yeah.” Amanda nodded reassuringly. “I’ll clean up the mess once I get this unlucky bastard to the morgue. Tell Dad I’ll be up in a bit!” She grinned as she stepped into the elevator with her escort. “I just hope Andrew doesn’t see this,” she said as the doors closed. “He’ll lose his shit.” She stabbed the button to head to Sub-level Five. “Or he’ll facepalm, one of the two. Probably facepalm.”

_ Just so you know, _ ISAC advised,  _ Father hit the button on Sub-level Two. So he’ll see it. _

The elevator dinged and -2 appeared on the floor indicator. As ISAC warned, the doors opened to reveal Andrew. Amanda quickly put her hands behind her back, still holding the head. “Hi sweetie,” she said merrily. “We’re headed down.” Andrew stared at her for a moment. “This is Corporal Jorgensen,” Amanda said, nodding toward the Marine next to her. “He’s helping me transport something to the morgue.”

Andrew looked from Amanda to the Marine, then at the body, and then back at Amanda. “You’ve got a severed head behind your back, don’t you?” Amanda nodded, and Andrew smacked his face with his palm. “Only you,” he said with a sigh as he got into the elevator. “Whose head is it?”

Amanda brought the head out from behind her back and hefted it in her hands. “I don’t know exactly,” she said. “I’ve got a hunch he’s a Hunter--but a particular kind of Hunter, rather than the garden-variety “kill Agents and take their shit as a trophy” kind.” She turned the head over. “White male, looks mid-thirties…” Amanda lifted up his winter cap a bit. “Brunette…” The elevator dinged, and the doors opened on Sub-level Five. “And here we are! Morgue’s down this way.” She led the Corporal down the hall. Andrew stepped halfway out of the elevator.

“Amanda,” he called out, “your father’s going to want to see you!”

“I know,” she called back. “Tell him I’m working, he’ll understand! Love you!” She laughed a bit. “See,” she said to Corporal Jorgensen as the pair disappeared into the morgue with their gruesome cargo, “I knew he’d facepalm.”

“Love you too!” Andrew chuckled and stepped back into the elevator. “Love you too,” he whispered again as the doors closed and he stabbed the button to take him to the first floor. “Never a dull moment.”


	33. Die Hard The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first reports come in from the carrier Groups, and Amanda gives everyone a rundown on a couple of Hunters before starting a hunt of her own. (And there's a little Amanda/Andrew fluff at the start)

**White House Bunker** **  
****Presidential Quarters, Secure Sub-level One** **  
****Day 3 of the Black Tusk War**

Amanda felt something soft being pressed against her back. She rolled to her right, and came to a stop against a pillow. When she opened her eyes, she saw Andrew smiling at her, wearing a USNA ‘86 REUNION shirt and pair of heather-grey sweats. “Hey hon,” she said sleepily.

Andrew clambered over his wife and settled in next to her. “John and ISAC both told me you were up here with Andy,” he whispered as he gave her a kiss. He looked over Amanda to see the baby snoozing on his back in his co-sleeper. A tiny Smartwatch was attached to his left arm with a soft elastic band to keep an eye on his vital signs, and he wore a onesie made from a JTF t-shirt. “Did you make that Watch for him?” he whispered with a smile on his face.

“Mmhmm.” Amanda curled into her husband’s embrace. “Emma ‘n Inaya collaborated on the onesie,” she mumbled. Andrew smelled of soap, gun oil, and a hint of whiskey. “Been at the range with Charles?”

“How’d you know?” Amanda sleepily tapped her nose, and Andrew laughed softly. “Well,” he replied, “I can’t let the love of my life do all the heavy lifting around here.” He kissed Amanda on the forehead and buried his nose in her hair. He inhaled the smell of lemon and pine, and let out a slow sigh. “I was so afraid I’d lose you when you headed out the other night,” he whispered. “Is that how you felt back when I was deployed?” He felt Amanda nod, her hair brushing against his lips.

“Mmhmm. But we’re here now,” she mumbled. “‘Sokay.” She turned over onto her right side, and pressed back against Andrew, who embraced her as she reached out and smoothed Andy’s hair. “Sweet lil’ kiddo,” she mumbled with a smile. “Like his brothers.” She fell asleep again.

The door slowly opened, and LJ crept in. He put a finger to his lips as Andrew looked up. “ISAC told me he’s going to need a change,” he whispered, indicating the baby. “Let Mom sleep.” He saw his father smile, and smiled back as he picked Andy up and gently patted him on the back. “Okay baby boy, let’s get you changed so you can go meet Grandpapa.” LJ winked and gave his brother a kiss on the cheek, and left the room. 

  
  


**Cabinet Room** **  
****45 minutes later**

“I thought your mother still had all of your baby clothes,” John remarked as he cuddled his baby grandson. “Of course, I do have to admit that the repurposing of JTF togs is pretty appropriate to the situation we’re in.” He gave Andy a big kiss, to which the baby responded by blowing a raspberry at his grandfather and squealing happily. “And the green does go with his hair,” the old man quipped. Outside the windows of the Cabinet Room, a light snow fell on the city.

LJ laughed. “We gave my old stuff away to families at Mom’s clinic years ago, remember?” He smiled. “When I found out Mom was pregnant, I was kinda worried about stuff other than baby clothes. I mean...she’s 53--that puts her in the at-risk category as it is...but during a pandemic?” He grabbed the water bottle on the table in front of him and took a drink. “That, and I thought that Andy...was someone else’s.” He got a glum look on his face for a moment. “I mean, you both know that I love Mom, but the thought of her having a kid with Division Public Enemy Number One was just...eegh.” LJ shuddered.

“Wait!” Danny’s eyes grew wide and he almost spit his water out. “Are you talking about _Keener_?!” He stared at his uncle and then back to his cousin. “Seriously?”

“Ohhhh yes.” LJ grimaced. “Oh yes. He and Mom had a thing for a while, a few years after the divorce. Wasn’t anything beyond friends-with-occasional-benefits, but Mom said that he’d come to see her at the house after escaping Manhattan.” He gave his relatives a meaningful look. “When Mom got to New York, she knew she was pregnant thanks to ISAC--but she couldn’t tell Dad the happy news yet thanks to Black Tusk spiriting him away to parts unknown after I tried to extract him from White Oak.” LJ took another drink and let out a heavy sigh. “She’d told Keener though, and apparently he just assumed he was the father.”

John shook his head a bit and let out a half-sigh. “And your mother didn’t disabuse him of that little notion.”

“Nope.” LJ grimaced a bit. “On Liberty Island, Keener whispered to me right before he died that I’d have to think of him every time I saw the baby.” The operative chuckled and tipped his bottle toward his baby brother. “But when you look at Andy, there’s really zero doubt who his father is.” He grinned and raised his bottle. “Last laugh, Keener!” He took a swig. “Motherfucker broke Mom’s heart with all the crap he pulled in New York, especially City Hall. I’ll _never_ forgive him for it.” He scratched an itch on his stubbly jaw. “Ugh, I gotta shave.”

“We all do,” Danny said. He chuckled and took a drink from his water. “But shaves can wait--right now we gotta get ready to make our pushes inland once we get those footholds secured.” He looked up. “Hey ISAC, any word from the fronts?”

_Early reports have come in from Tower, Brickyard, and Galveston. Galveston is in tough, but holding thanks to Seawall Group. Reinforcements are inbound from Tabasco, the settlement on McIlhenny Island. Brickyard is making a push through the town of Washington with help from K-Ville and The Pit--and it seems that there’s a Settlement on the shores of the Pamlico Sound that’s managed to secure a stable of trained animals for use in ambushes._ The AI made a low whistling sound. _Odd, I thought that black bears weren’t all that aggressive unless they’re actively threatened._

John chuckled. “Ask your father about the time a couple of drunk Marines from Cherry Point decided to tease a sow black bear,” he said. “They weren’t threatening, but they were annoying--and black bears don’t like that either.” Andy started fussing and squirming in his arms, and John gave him a sniff. “Oh, you need a change again sir!” He looked to LJ. “Where’s a good changing area--and a fresh diaper?”

LJ stood and indicated the restroom just outside. “We’ve got changing stations set up in the heads, stocked with everything needed. There’s also a bin you can use for the soiled diaper.” He sat back down for a moment, then heard meowing from the hall. “Oh jeez.” He snapped his fingers twice. “Admiral, Inspection!” A drawn-out trill heralded the arrival of Admiral Halsey, who took a running leap on a chair to give LJ a headbutt and cheek-rub. The cat purred loudly and meowed as LJ scratched the top of his head, then padded over to Danny to greet him.

“Hey there big cat,” Danny said with a smile. He patted his lap, and Halsey came to sit in front of him before standing up to give him a hug. “D’awww, you remembered!” He hugged the cat, who purred and rubbed his cheeks against him several times before hopping down to the floor and running back to the bathroom door just in time for John and Andy to come out.

“Heading to the mess for a bottle,” John called out. “Be right back.”

_Father’s on his way down,_ ISAC advised. _Manny and Kelso should be in here any second, and I’m prepping comms so we can get updated reports from the coastal assault Groups._ John and Andrew walked in without Andy. _Where is--oh wait, nevermind._

“What?” LJ raised an eyebrow.

_The drone operators have volunteered as a group to be loved on by our brother,_ ISAC explained. _I was worried for a moment._

The President and Vice-President sat down at the table, with LJ to John’s right and Danny to Andrew’s left. Manny and Kelso walked in and sat down on the opposite side, and Kelso looked around. “Is this everyone?” she asked.

_Yes. Mother’s asleep--I recommend she be allowed to rest._

“She hasn’t slept well,” Andrew explained to his father-in-law. “Between the small handful of patients she has and throwing herself into tech upgrades and...well, you know how she is. Always wanting to make sure everyone around her has everything they need.”

“That I do.” John reached to the cooler tray in the middle of the table and grabbed a bottle of electrolyte water. He passed it to Andrew, then grabbed another for himself. The tray rolled down the table to Kelso and Manny, who each took a bottle. John looked to Andrew and raised an eyebrow. When Andrew nodded and winked, Admiral Collier chuckled softly. “Well then Mr. President,” he said, “I believe everyone’s here from our end?”

_Everyone is ready to start,_ ISAC announced. _Activating SCIF._ Two large monitors set up over the middle of the table lit up as ballistic-cloth shades lowered over the windows, and tiled images appeared listing locations communicating with the White House.

“Good afternoon everyone,” Andrew said as he sat up straight. “I see that for once I’m not over-dressed.” Several people chuckled at the quip. “First things first: how’s everyone holding up so far?”

A female Admiral in combat “blueberries” dress saluted. Her hair was tied back in a regulation bun, and there were obvious dark circles under her eyes--evidence of a lack of sleep. “Rear Admiral Alicia Graves-Bennet, Mr. President. Seawall Group is holding the line against Black Tusk, so far. We’ve gotten some very timely aid from a settlement in Louisiana that’s helped us to gain a foothold and establish contact with Galveston Safehouse, and we’re establishing supply lines to settlements in the area and up into Houston. The hovercraft that was in the Gulf has moved west into Mexican waters--they have a base on the shore near what’s left of Xalapa.”

“So the Mexicans are involved now,” John remarked. “Drew, I suggest we find out if anyone’s in charge there, on the off chance we can arrange a joint operation.” LJ took out a pad and stylus that he passed over to his grandfather so that he could take notes. “How are things around Galveston proper, Benny?”

“A lot of hungry and desperate people here John,” Admiral Bennet replied. “The locals had been attempting to fish in the Gulf, but Black Tusk had a habit of taking potshots at any and all on the water until we showed up. We’ve got supply for now, and we’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights getting people fed and providing medical care where needed. Even so, infrastructure is going to be tight until we can liberate more of The Gulf Coast and Deep South.”

“Thanks Benny--keep us posted; and don’t take this all on yourself, okay? You’ve got a good bunch of people in your Group; let them carry the load for you so you can get some rest.” John rubbed his chin a moment. “Ray, how you doing there in Florida?”

Another Admiral, a two-star with slightly-longer-than-regulation brown hair and an impish smile on his cherubic face, saluted. “Morning John. Drew! Good to see you’re in one piece!”

Andrew chuckled. “You can thank Amanda for that,” he said with a smile. “She literally pulled me out of the way of an assassin’s bullet.”

“And LJ took my advice on what to stock in his trauma kit so he could stop the bleeding.” Amanda wandered in with a cup of coffee in one hand, running a paddle brush through her hair with the other. She sat down and set the coffee on the table so she could pull a notebook from her waistband before straightening her shirt. “Ray, good to see you again.”

The Admiral on-screen grinned. “Mandy! Great to see you too--I understand congratulations are in order for you and Drew.” Amanda nodded and smiled, and the Admiral gave a thumbs-up. “For those who I haven’t met yet--Rear Admiral Raymond Whitney, Commander Key Group. We’ve managed to liberate the Keys and are working our way slowly up the peninsula. We’ve seized some Black Tusk materiel and ordnance; from what we can determine, they were planning to turn the Keys into a series of fortified bases from which to launch forays into the Caribbean and the Gulf.” He grimaced. “We also found more Eclipse crates. Mandy, you weren’t kidding when you warned us that Black Tusk may have been bankrolling the former Agent Keener’s little pet project.”

“Handle that mess carefully,” Amanda cautioned. “I recommend full hazmat gear and as thorough a decon protocol as you can muster for anyone even peripherally involved with disposal duty.”

“Then we’ll do that,” Admiral Whitney replied. “We haven’t found any more rude surprises, but there was some encrypted data that our SIGINT folks are having a rough time tackling.”

_I may be able to assist with decryption,_ ISAC offered.

“I appreciate that ISAC--I’ll have them get in contact with you once we reach the folks at Miami safehouse.”

“Miami online,” A male voice answered. Another tile appeared showing a group of Case Blue operatives on a static-filled screen. “Sorry we’re late,” the operative said. “Can’t stay long.”

Amanda got a concerned look on her face. “What’s up, Gator?”

“Black Tusk has the city on lockdown, and there are Hunters on the streets actively tracking anyone with a Brick and a Watch.” He hit a button. “We’re trying to sneak outside the city as a group and head west through the ‘Glades to link up with you, Admiral--ISAC, sending a data packet for Mother.” The static intensified for a moment. “Shit, they’re close. Gotta go. Everyone, go dark!” The image went black.

_Data packet received._

“Thanks, ISAC. Any signal from Gator or his people?”

_Negative. There’s a drone at their last known location, but that’s it._

“Shit.” Admiral Whitney grimaced. “Where’s Chief Rampsperger?” he said to somebody off-screen. After an indistinct response, he ordered, “Tell her to get her team ready and head east through the Everglades--her orders are to find and extract any and all Case Blue personnel between here and Miami, and get them to this carrier ASAP. Anyone wearing Black Tusk kit is KOS. Thank you.”

_There’s a planned route in this packet, Admiral._ ISAC paused a moment. _I’m sending it to you now--The route from Gator may be a misdirection in the event of Black Tusk eavesdropping, so I’ve included other possible routes and included known settlements in the Everglades that Chief Ramsperger and her SEALs can use as stops if necessary._

“I appreciate that ISAC,” John said with a smile.

Admiral Whitney nodded. “As do I.” He turned to the person off-screen. “Get those routes to the Chief.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Since we’re dealing with these Hunters now--what can you tell us about them?”

“Oh you’ll love this,” Amanda deadpanned. She tapped the monitor just behind her. “ISAC, go ahead and patch this through to everyone.” The monitor lit up with Case Blue’s stylized eagle and _E Pluribus Unum: We All Lift Together_ surrounding it. An image appeared on-screen of a man in his mid-thirties. His hair was buzzed, and he grimaced at the camera making his round face look like nothing so much as the head of a deadly Kewpie Doll. Another photo appeared alongside showing that same face, framed by longer dark hair, on the head Amanda had carried into the morgue two nights before.

She sighed. “Meet Grigoriy Iakovich Duschenko. Age 39, Born in Orel, in the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic.” She heard soft music in the room. “ISAC, I know you enjoy Al Stewart, but this is not the time to be ironically playing _Roads to Moscow_.” The music stopped. “Thank you son.” She smiled a bit. “ISAC’s subtle joke aside; as with most young men from a Hero City, young Grigory joined the Red Army and served his term with distinction--he performed so well that he was tapped for the Spetsnaz.”

“Oh, shit.” John let out a sigh. “So we really are facing off against the Russians then?”

Amanda gave her father a combination of a nod and a shrug. “That is still up in the air, for reasons that will become clear in a few minutes. I got the drop on our friend here on the first night of the War.”

“I’m afraid to ask what happened to his head,” Admiral Whitney quipped.

Amanda smirked a bit. “A BMG .50 round across his C4 vertebra--he was what we’d taken to calling an Observer; he’s a Hunter that just keeps tabs on possible targets; he’d been staking out the White House for at least the last month, but as soon as he was spotted he’d drop a smokebomb and beat feet. He only wound up on a slab because ISAC and I got the drop on him while he was parked atop the Treasury Building. Go ahead and show the toybox, ISAC.”

An image appeared on the monitor showing all of the items that the Hunter had on him. “Some of these may look familiar--we have a Brick here, that’s a Watch…” She indicated a small box with a bullet hole in it. “This was the ECM that Mr. Duschenko had on him--until I shot it, it was transmitting a distortion field that interrupted any and all signals from Watches and Bricks that weren’t being work by other Hunters or Black Tusk-aligned rogue agents. Now, how do I know this?”

Another slide appeared on the screen, showing the Hunter that LJ felled at Coney Island. An image appeared next to him of a US Navy ID. John’s jaw dropped.

“For those who aren’t familiar with the US Navy: meet Chief Petty Officer Edward Gallagher, BUD/S 252. Convicted of a fuckton of war crimes by a court-martial--basically he murdered a bunch of Iraqi civilians and desecrated their bodies for kicks when he was deployed to the Middle East, then threatened to murder any teammate who reported him; he wasn’t caught until one of his teammates went straight to the newly-reappointed Chief of Naval Operations to blow the whistle in 2008.” She patted her father on the shoulder. 

“Mr. Gallagher was stripped of rank, pension and privileges, and did a few years in the Brig until he was let out in May of 2012--whereupon he promptly dropped out of sight.”

LJ narrowed his eyes. “I knew that SOB looked familiar,” he growled. “That makes his takedown _so_ much more satisfying.”

“I have no doubt,” Amanda replied with a smirk. “So he had much the same tech that our Mr. Duschenko carried on him--only it seems that there are extra bells and whistles depending on a Hunter’s role.” ISAC put up a split-screen showing the items recovered from both dead Hunters. “Mr. Gallagher’s ECM suite here contains an amplifier in it, which enabled him to disrupt Division and, later, Initiative tech. Everything is also shielded against his own EMPs, like the things that we have being shielded against our own disruptor EMP. The interesting thing is that, unlike ours, Mr. Gallagher’s tech is also shielded against any and all jammers of the sort that the True Sons and Black Tusk have been using.”

John kept making notes as his daughter spoke. “Can we use this to upgrade Initiative tech?”

“Oh absolutely--in fact, I’d been working on something like that with two of the best tinkers I’ve ever met.” A schematic appeared on the screen. “This is an Achilles Pulse generator,” she declared. “It serves two purposes; It not only can tag hostile parties for precision shots, it also acts as ECCM to counter Hunter distortion fields. Coop and I are going to be doing some final testing down in the Tech Lab today.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish we’d come up with it sooner.”

“You can’t blame yourself Mandy,” Cap’s voice came over the comms. “Sorry to interrupt everyone; I’m Steve Rodgers, callsign Cap. I’m based out of the New Hope Settlement here in DC.”

Amanda smiled a bit. “Thanks Cap. I’m not blaming myself, but I really don’t like the timing. Another item of interest are these smoke bombs.” Amanda indicated a handful of small smoke grenades. “The compound in these little bastards is an amalgam of medium-intensity CS and an incendiary compound. They’re designed to disorient the targets and help to either cover the Hunter’s escape or enable him to rush in for the kill. The Tower is working on a counter for it, and hopefully we’ll have something soon.”

Andrew rubbed his chin for a moment. “What about their masks?” he asked. “They can’t just be for looks.”

“And they’re not,” Amanda replied. The image switched to show the interior of the mask that LJ retrieved from the Coney Island Hunter. “This mask is, essentially, a stylized and modified CBRN mask. There’s a seal around the outside here,” she indicated the edge of the mask. “And the mouth has a CBRN filter in addition to a voice-changer, all the better to add to that whole spooky axe murderer vibe.” She rolled her eyes a bit before continuing. “The Bricks that the Hunters have connect...somewhere. We’re still trying to find a way to trace the connection back, but the route is heavily obfuscated. If I had to guess...” She stopped and blinked. “You know what? Let me hold off on that, just because I want to double-check a couple of things. And thus ends the lesson.” She smiled and sat down, and grabbed her notebook and pen to start writing furiously.

John chuckled. “Good enough--there anything else you have for us, Ray?”

Admiral Whitney shook his head. “Not at present, John. We’re doing our best and hopefully we’ll find our lost lambs before the wolves get the dirty hands on them.” He saluted, and John returned the salute.

“Admiral Cantor,” John declared. “What’s the status of Banks Group?” Another one-star Admiral appeared on the screen, an older gentleman with a thin lined face and a shock of grey hair sticking out from under his cover.

“That hovercraft in Bogue Sound gave us an issue for exactly five minutes, John.” Admiral Cantor smiled. “Some folks from K-Ville managed to set off some charges on that monster’s skirt--turns out it’s only armoured on the inside. Once the hover was grounded, we raided it with the help of Initiative assets and Beartown; honest to God, that’s the name of the Settlement. They apparently have trained bears and other such hostile wildlife.” The Admiral chuckled. “The hover is secured and clear of any and all hostile forces, and it’s now flying the Stars and Stripes. Dr. Collier, I heard your advice to Admiral Whitney; I’ll make sure that Banks Group follows the same precautions.”

John pursed his lips a bit. “Were you able to take Cherry Point?”

Admiral Cantor sighed heavily. “We were, yes; but that’s got some not-so-great news. The jets that are here were destroyed by the Black Tusk when they took the base. We’re doing an inventory, in case something escaped the carnage or got moved somewhere else; the inventory will take a few days--I’ll make sure to contact you the instant we find something.” He took off his cover and ran a hand through his hair. “The locals have been telling us quite a few harrowing stories, John. In short, Black Tusk took whatever they wanted from these people, burned whole settlements, and shot anyone who tried to tell them no. The folks out of the settlement in Washington town will only speak with Initiative operatives--they don’t trust anyone even remotely military, and I can’t say I blame them.”

“Nor can I. If you need anything for humanitarian relief, let us know and we’ll do our best to provide it.”

“Fortunately,” Cantor replied with a smile, “there’s enough on this captured hovercraft that we’re good for now. We’ve also got techs going over the hardware here, and we’re packing stuff up to send Dr. Collier’s way.”

Amanda grinned. “I appreciate it, Admiral.”

_Mother,_ ISAC whispered in Amanda’s ear, _I’m tracking Gator's team via satellite. They’re heading into the Everglades now. I’m counting five Hunters hot on their tail._

“Excuse me a sec,” she said softly. She got up from the table and went into the hallway. “Have you updated the SEALs?”

_Giving them regular updates, yes. They’re in three airboats, headed toward our people as fast as they can go._

“Thanks son.” Amanda smiled. “Can you do me a favour?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Dig up all the logs and records you can from after I let the Division have custody of you. I want to know what they and DARPA did before they installed your hardware and clapped you in irons.”

_On it. I’ll have them ready for you shortly._

“I appreciate it.” She walked back into the Cabinet room and sat down as Broadway Group finished giving their report. The monitors went dark except for a map showing current US and Black Tusk positions.

John looked at his daughter for a moment. “ISAC, could you make sure there’s no outbound comm open?”

After a long pause, ISAC responded _Done._

“Thanks,” John replied. He looked at Amanda. “Sweetie, why do you look like you’re plotting somebody’s bloody end?”

Amanda sat back in her chair with her eyes closed. "Because I am." She clasped her hands in front of her face, steepling her index fingers in front of her mouth. After several long quiet breaths, she opened her eyes and looked at her father. “I have a suspicion,” she said.

_And you’re correct,_ ISAC announced. _Sending search results to your HUD now._

Everyone watched Amanda as she sat back, eyes unfocused as she read the data coming up her HUD. “Mother _fuckers_ ….” Her expression darkened as she straightened up in her chair.

“Black Tusk has a clone of ISAC,” she growled. Her gaze snapped to Andrew. “Hus...wait. ISAC, let me get a closer look at that signature.” She snorted. “Oh, what a shit forgery,” she snarked. “Do us all a favour and throw that up on screen.” Amanda stood and pointed at the signature. “Andrew, when have you _ever_ signed anything like that?” On the screen, everyone saw _A. R. Ellis II_ on the signature line of an order authorizing the cloning of ISAC by DARPA.

“Never,” Andrew and ISAC answered at the same time. ISAC put copies of letters and other things signed by his father on the screen, all showing _Andrew R. Ellis_ as the signature. “I’ve never signed things with initials or the II,” he said. “Just because I’m named for my grandfather, that doesn’t mean I want to be my grandfather.”

“That’s right!” Amanda declared. “ISAC, please track down handwriting exemplars from _everyone_ even peripherally connected with the Department of Defense and DARPA--I want to know who the fuck signed my husband’s name on that order, and if they’re still breathing.” She looked at her father and husband, anger and determination written all over her face. 

“It’s time to hunt the Hunters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two notes:
> 
> 1) I'm using a theory that I have for the Hunters and how they came to be affiliated with Black Tusk--it wouldn't surprise me if Ubi reveals at some point that they were ex-Special Forces and were hired by Black Tusk to help get rid of the Division so that their invasion would be unopposed.
> 
> 2) For those who don't know about the real-world Eddie Gallagher case: He was convicted by a court-martial and sentenced to prison time as well as loss of rank and benefits for the things he did (and they were pretty damned gruesome), and IIRC was to be Dishonourably Discharged after he served his time. However, he was immediately pardoned by Donald Trump, who ordered his rank and benefits restored--because, of course, it's just oh-so-brave to murder brown people for existing and then desecrate their corpses for shits and laffs.


	34. A Killer Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Hunter, a Doctor, and a couple of State Alums walk into a Pandemic....

**Lower Manhattan, Decontamination Zone 1** **  
** **Day 7 of the Black Tusk War**

  
  


“ _ Yob tvoyu mat’! _ ” James Dragov cursed under his breath at the fraying rope over his head. “Hang on,” he called down, “This rope’s no good, and I don’t have another one--we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He quickly swung toward a nearby fire escape to grab the safety barrier grill with one foot, then grabbed onto a windowsill with his free hand.

_ Marking a handhold for you, _ ISAC advised him.  _ Pretend this is a mountain...or something. _

“Ha! Thanks.” Dragov inched along, rope still attached to his rappelling unit, until he was close enough to grab onto the next level’s floor and drop onto the fire escape. “That was too close,” he commented. “Bet you anything that rope was cut.”

_ I don’t take sucker bets, _ ISAC replied.  _ Especially with Hunters actively seeking us out. Prepping a pulse drone for you--if you could, drop it when it’s ready and I’ll be able to plot a way up for the others. _ Dragov took out the drone and waited for the blue LEDs on each face to blink three times before dropping it to the ground.  _ Plotting...and done. _

“You guys got this?” Dragov scanned the nearby rooftops and windows. He caught a flash of movement to one side, and immediately unhooked a marksman rifle to sight whatever it was. “Rats,” he muttered.

_ They’re good. Can you do me a favour and look over to the frayed spot on that rope? _ When Dragov cast his eyes up to the fray, ISAC zoomed in and scanned it.  _ It was cut, _ he said.  _ But not all the way. I can give you more info when we get to the roof. Either way, be ready for an unpleasant surprise. _

The big Russian smiled. “Thanks,” he told ISAC. He looked over the side and saw the rest of his team on the fire escape just below him. “What?”

“Window’s open here,” another operative told him. He pushed his black beanie back a bit, and a curl of black hair popped out. “Should we check to see if there’s a way up to your floor?” One of his partners, a bear of a man in a great-coat with a bushy reddish beard, put a hand on his arm and shook his head.

“Do you smell something funky?” The greatcoat-wearing operative tapped his nose. “You picking up anything in there, ISAC?” he asked as he unhooked his light machine gun.

_ Scanning. I-- _ Dragov’s HUD fuzzed out, and ISAC’s voice was interrupted by the sound of an electronically-altered laugh.

“Hunter!” Dragov slipped over the windowsill next to him into the empty apartment right as an EMP activated. The acrid smell of a smoke grenade reached his nostrils from downstairs, and he immediately slipped on his CBRN mask. His eyes watered as he ducked into the kitchen to prep his combat shotgun with shock ammo, and his earpieces amplified every sound around him. Below him, the roar of gunfire was cut with screams of agony and digitized howls as his team fought for their lives.

Dragov backed against the cupboards, shotgun at the ready, and tossed out a frag grenade into a new round of smoke. Heavy footfalls approached the living room of the one-bedroom right as the grenade went off. He heard a distorted electronic grunt, and opened fire as the smoke cleared enough to show the glowing blue rings of a Hunter’s trophies. 

Electricity arced over the Hunter as he froze in place, unable to do anything for the moment but twitch as the electrified slugs expended their charge, and Dragov took a step forward to blast him twice more in the face, then twice again. The Hunter’s mask flew off with the last salvo, and he fell over dead. Dragov took out his sidearm and put a round in the Hunter’s forehead for good measure before creeping into the hallway. His HUD cleared, and he called for his team. “Bear! Jackleg! Garibaldi! Anyone!?”

_ One operative down, two more in need of aid. No traps in evidence. _

Dragov charged to the staircase and over the banister to the floor below. He ran into the open door of an apartment to a scene of carnage. Bear, the great-coated operative who first alerted the team to something amiss, lay against the couch with the Hunter’s combat axe buried in his head. The curly-haired operative had his hand over a huge gash on his right arm as his comrade prepared a syringe of clotting factor. “Fucking hell…” Dragov dropped to his knees next to his teammates and took off his pack to grab his trauma kit. He took out a large pack of gauze and opened it. “Move your hand Jackleg, I’ve got you.” The slender long-faced operative removed his hand, and Dragov clapped the gauze on it with one hand, then secured it with a self-adhesive wrap. “The Hunter’s down,” he whispered.

“Bear saved our asses,” Garibaldi said softly. “That Hunter was about to take Jackleg’s arm off when Bear charged him.”

_ May his memory be a blessing, _ ISAC said.  _ I’m very sorry. _

James let out a heavy sigh. “Here,” he said. He took off his Hive and set it down next to his surviving teammates. The device glowed green when he tapped his watch, and the tiny “bee” probes flitted to the injured operatives to provide extra coagulants and other things that would kick-start their body’s healing processes. “Fuck me…”

“Drakon,” a female voice said over the comms, “this is Grimm. ISAC just let me know about Bear...I’m sorry.”

“He was a great operative, Grimmy.”

“And a good man,” Grimm replied softly. “I’ll send a team to collect his body. In the meantime, Mandy needs you to get everything you can from that Hunter….especially the Watches.”

“Go on Jimmy,” Dragov’s curly-haired teammate told him. “We’ve got it here.”

Dragov nodded and sighed. “Heading upstairs to get what I can,” he said as he hefted his pack. “Drakon out.” He looked to his teammates. “You sure you’ve got this, Garibaldi?”

“Oh yeah,” the operative said. “Soon as I’ve got Jackleg’s arm all set we’ll come upstairs to meet you.” He looked over at Bear for a moment, then stood and walked over to close his friend’s eyes. “Rest easy, big guy.” He patted Bear’s shoulder as Dragov left the apartment to head upstairs.

_ I’ll mark what to get, _ ISAC told Dragov.  _ A DNA sample and photo of his face will be helpful as well, so Mother and I can identify him. _

“Right.” Dragov removed all of the Watches from the Hunter’s kit and stashed them in his bag. A pip from ISAC marked where the Hunter’s mask landed. Dragov went and picked it up; it was a goalie’s mask with stitches painted all over it.

_ Opening a link to DC. _

“If this guy’s name turns out to be Gerry Cheevers,” Amanda mused in Dragov’s ear, “I’ll be fit to be tied.”

Dragov got a confused look on his face and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t get it.”

“Gerry Cheevers,” Amanda explained, “was one of the great goalies of the age--he wore that exact kind of mask when he was in net for Boston. Painted a stitch on it every time he took a puck to the face.” After a beat, she quipped, “He was before your time--only an old lady like me would remember him.”

Dragov chuckled a bit. “Got it.” He sighed and stowed the mask, then went digging through the Hunter’s gear. He took out a heavy bag and put the bits and bobs in it, then stowed it in the front pocket of his pack. “Why do you need all of this?” he asked as he prepped a sample of blood.

“I’m on a bug hunt,” Amanda said. “Well, a clone hunt.”

Dragov paused. “A clone hunt?”

_ Someone forged my father’s signature on an order to DARPA to clone my operating system after I was installed in DC, _ ISAC told him.  _ We’re trying to track down the clone. _

“Shit.” Dragov picked over the Hunter’s corpse one more time for anything he may have missed, then took a photo of his face. “ISAC, can you scan this asshole and see if there’s anything I missed?”

A blue scan pulse marked a spot on the Hunter’s back. Dragov turned the Hunter over, and ISAC scanned him again.  _ His jacket _ , ISAC said.  _ Bring the whole thing. Also, nice shooting. _

A small video feed appeared in the lower-right corner of Dragov’s HUD, showing Amanda in her lab in DC with a baby in a carrier. “Thanks, James. I was proud to bring Bear into the Initiative--taking a hit for his teammates is so in-character for him...I’m sorry he’s gone.” She smiled sadly. “I don’t know if that jacket will fit in the lead-lined bag you have. If it does, great. If not, then either Garibaldi or Jackleg will have to carry it in theirs.” The baby started fussing and leaned back with his mouth open, and Amanda chuckled a bit. “Oh little baby, where  _ did _ you learn to do that?” She looked back at the camera and said, “I’ve got to go feed Andy. Please be careful, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Dragov replied. Amanda smiled and closed the connection. Dragov got out the bag that he had the rest of the Hunter’s gear in. He opened the jacket and laid the items on it, then rolled the jacket up to enclose them before sliding the package into the bag and putting the whole thing back in his pack. “That works,” he said to himself. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and ISAC marked two outlines in blue. Dragov let out a sigh of relief as Garibaldi and Jackleg appeared in the doorway. He stood and put on his pack. “I’ve got everything,” he declared. “Let’s get to the roof.”

The trio carefully made their way up the stairwell to another fire escape. Dragov exited the window from the hallway and tested the structure before waving for his teammates to join him. They went up to the top level of the fire escape, and Garibaldi scrambled up the wall to the roof.

_ Parkour! _ ISAC joked. The operatives chuckled and followed their comrade’s path up the remaining few feet to the rooftop. The AI highlighted the rope installation, and marked two sets of footprints in the dusting of snow around the rooftop greenhouse--their original destination.  _ So it was indeed a trap, _ he said. He marked a smaller set of rodent footprints that ended suddenly as they crossed the path of the human footprints.  _ Hmm. I think I can create an ECHO--I see surveillance cameras that have this roof in their sights, and I’m calculating the temperature variations in the footprints as they go to and from the installation and the roof access door. Give me a moment...there. ECHO location marked for you. _

Dragov approached the ECHO’s location and tapped his watch to activate it. The team saw the Hunter leaning over the side of the roof with a serrated knife in one hand. The rat was on the rope and looked to be gnawing on it. The sound accompanying the ECHO was the electronically distorted sound of the Hunter’s breathing, followed by a sudden rodentish squeak and a wet thud. After a couple of seconds the Hunter said something unintelligible, then laughed a bit.

“Fuckin’ creepy,” Jackleg remarked. A JTF chopper approached the building and parked about twenty feet away.

“Team Drakon, this is Sparrow Five. Are we clear to approach?”

_ Nothing else up here that I can detect, _ ISAC advised.  _ Fleet and Deerstalker are on board Sparrow Five. _

Dragov waved them in. “You’re clear, Sparrow Five. Your extraction team will have to go in from the fire escape on the sixth floor. He’s...in the living room.”

The chopper approached and lowered a gurney with two operatives on it. Dragov and his team watched as they leapt onto the fire escape and went into the apartment with weapons drawn.

“Clear here.”

“Also clear. Oh man, Bear...Let’s get him out of here.” The second operative’s voice broke a bit. The pair loaded a body bag carrying the dead operative on the gurney, and signaled for it to go up.

“We’ve got it from here,” Deerstalker advised as a rope dropped from the chopper for the operatives to grab. “Fleet and I will get him to the Tower. Thanks for taking out the Hunter that did this to him.”

Dragov nodded sadly. “Part of the job, Deerstalker. Be careful out there.”

“Thanks--you do the same.” The chopper left the area and headed back toward the Tower, leaving the three remaining members of Team Drakon standing on the roof as the sun’s bottom edge started to touch the western horizon.

“There’s a settlement nearby,” Garibaldi commented. He pointed toward a nearby building. “Some ex-Wall Streeters. We should see if we can stay there for the night--unless of course you want to risk another Hunter by heading home in the dark.”

Dragov nodded. “Let’s check on this greenhouse before we head over,” he said. “This is what we were coming up here for in the first place--and since it’s their food, they’ll be happier to see us if we make sure it hasn’t been fucked with. We can come back in the morning to replace this rope.”

The greenhouse was one of several that had been erected in the summer and autumn with the help of the Initiative. ISAC scanned the exterior for any damage to the panes, and marked a hairline crack near the door.  _ Open the door a moment, _ the AI said.  _ I want to get some idea of what may be lurking in the air, given that you just fought a Hunter. _

Garibaldi put on his CBRN mask and opened the door. “Anything inside, ISAC?” He looked around slowly to give ISAC time to get visuals from his lenses.

_ No traps. Sampling air quality. _ After a few seconds, ISAC said,  _ It’s good. Ambient temperature is about 69 Fahrenheit. _

Garibaldi took a step inside and looked around. “Scan this crack for me,” he said. A blue scan pulse highlighted the crack and a temperature display ran up the operative’s HUD. “Temperature stress?”

_ Yes--in winters past it wouldn’t be this great a concern, but this winter is the coldest in the last 15 years. If I had to guess from the thickness of the pane’s bottom versus the top, I’d say this glass is about 40 years old; so a combination of age and temperature. _

“Any recommendations?”

_Look around,_ ISAC said. _Let’s see if we can find anything for a patch that will get that pane through the winter._ Garibaldi slowly walked through the greenhouse and its tabletop garden plots until ISAC highlighted a roll of duct tape on a nearby table. _That should work._ Another scan pulse washed over the greenhouse, and the AI marked a few other panes with patched cracks in them. _Ouch, that’s not a good sign._ _Updating the status of this Greenhouse at the Tower, and tracking down a few places where we may be able to find tarpaulins that can serve as additional insulation._

“Got it.” The operative looked around to see his teammates checking the status of the crops and greenhouse structure. He stood and turned. “Looks like the cold’s hitting this greenhouse hard,” he remarked. “Just like the others we’ve checked out.” Garibaldi removed his beanie and scratched his head for a moment before putting it on again. “This isn’t good.”

Dragov nodded. “Agreed. ISAC’s given me a few places to check out for insulation materials, and I’ve put out a call to nearby safehouses to see if they can spare anything.” The big Russian sighed. “This sucks, but if we can get these through the winter, then we should be able to make repairs once it warms up again.”

“You’ve got more work ahead of you tonight boys,” Grimm reported over comms. “Haven’s requested assistance with one of their trade convoys that’s having trouble finding a way around a Black Tusk blockade. Uke and his team are at 47th and 6th and are heading to give you some backup.”

“We’re on it,” Dragov responded. He hefted his pack and adjusted his coat. “You heard the lady--we’ve got work to do. ISAC,” he said as the team headed toward the door, “Plot us a path if you would; Grimmy, we’ve got a patch to make on one of the windows here. Soon as that’s done we’ll head out.”

“Roger that, James.”

Garibaldi ran duct tape down the length of the crack, and bolstered it with an X of tape from corner to corner. “We’re good.” He walked back to the table at the other end of the greenhouse and set the roll down. “For now, anyway.”

  
  
  


**White House Secure Sub-Level Two** **  
** **Tech Lab**

  
  


Amanda sat back in her chair and watched the screen. “Any matches yet ISAC?”

_ Not yet--but I have a lot of records to go through and cross-match. _

“Take your time, son.” She smiled and cuddled Andy, who was having his afternoon snack. “You doing okay there, little guy?” The baby made a humming sound and closed his eyes as he continued to nurse, and Amanda stroked his hair lovingly. “My little miracle baby. I still wish I knew where you learned to do an impression of a baby bird though.” She chuckled as Andy unlatched and let out a giant burp. “Oh my!” Amanda feigned a look of shock. “Oh my! Excuse you, sir!” Andy squealed and laughed as Amanda lifted him up and gave him a big kiss. “Pardon you!” She smiled, and the baby laughed again. Amanda grabbed a towel and slung it over her right shoulder, then held Andy close as she gently patted his back. “Got anyth--” The baby belched in her ear and blew a raspberry, then laughed again as he wriggled and squirmed in Amanda’s arms.

_ Why, I never! _ ISAC deadpanned. On a secondary monitor, ISAC put up a sepia-toned photo of a woman on a fainting couch, clutching a string of pearls..

Amanda chuckled and got up from her chair. “Okay big boy, let’s go ahead and put you in your playpen.” She laid Andy down on his back in the playpen, and he immediately rolled himself over and started trying to crawl. The door opened, and Artis walked in. “Hey Artis--how’re things at New Hope?”

“They’re good,” her assistant replied. “I mean, aside from the cold and my former employers still trying to cause trouble.” He grabbed a nearby chair and sat down. “Hey there cute stuff!” He made a couple of silly faces at Andy, who giggled and blew a raspberry at him. Artis laughed. “He’s getting big,” he observed. “Anyway--I’ve got an update on that ECM suite you asked me to go over.” He logged into the terminal next to him. “ISAC, can you bring up file Artis-ECM 1?”

_ Loading it up now. _ A wireframe view appeared on the monitor, and Artis turned the screen so Amanda could see it more easily. He pointed to a piece on the device that he’d outlined in red.

“This is from the late Mr. Gallagher’s device--the distortion field is triggered by an IFF signal from Bricks and Watches, that gets picked up by a receiver that I’ve marked here. This is how the Hunter knows that there’s an operative in the vicinity. The field also warns the operative that there’s a Hunter nearby, of course, but by that time it’s usually too late.”

_ Give me a minute, I want to check something. _ ISAC started scrolling text up one side of the screen.  _ These logs show all pings that have been automatically acknowledged by Case Blue and Division transceivers in the last year, and the IDs of the sending and receiving devices. It’s a good three petabytes worth of data, so it’ll take me a while to go through it all. _

“What are you looking for?” Amanda asked.

_ One moment, I’ve almost...found it! _ ISAC highlighted a section dated late October 2016.  _ There--that’s LJ’s Brick. These timestamps are during the Hunt for Red October err Bardon Schaeffer.  _ ISAC drew a box around one line of the data that Artis pulled from the Hunter’s ECM.  _ And that’s Mr. Gallagher’s ECM suite. That should be useful. _

Amanda grabbed her notebook and pen. “It’s very useful. We’ll need a few more Hunter ECM generators, but if I can isolate some sort of address subnet or block…”

“We can block or trace it,” Artis finished the thought. “Or better yet--do both.”

“And this is why you ended my class with an A,” Amanda replied with a grin. She scrawled some notes in the notebook, then closed it and set it aside. “And on that note,” she said as she looked over to see that Andy had fallen asleep on top of some of his toys, “I should probably take the kiddo upstairs for a change and a more comfortable nap spot.” She secured her terminal and stood.

“Wait,” Artis said. “Before you go--ISAC, I’m going to give you an address block. Can you snoop traffic going to and coming from any address in that block?”

_ Quite possibly, _ the AI replied.  _ Is it current, or former? _

Artis gave a half-shrug. “Officially former--but I’ve got a feeling that OpSec isn’t quite as up to snuff since my ex-boss was captured.” He entered the address block in a text field that ISAC opened for him. “There it is; I’m willing to bet that my former employers have ‘officially’ switched to a new network; but unofficially there are probably some people using the old one.”

“Keyword Excubitus,” Amanda said. She looked at Artis and added, “I trust you, Artis--but you know that I don’t trust your former employers.”

“Understandable. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve got a honeypot set up.”

_ Passive logging enabled, _ ISAC replied.  _ Black Diamond Firewall in place. If nothing else, we can at least get a location so we can get people on-site. I would say that I’m wondering how your anti-Hunter patch was rooted out and neutralized, Mother--but given that we’re looking for my clone, I think we both know the answer to that question. _

“Yeah.” Amanda sighed heavily. “That code was very heavily obfuscated too, so that’s the only way it could have been found so quickly.” She picked up Andy in her arms. “Okay sleepy boy, let’s go get you upstairs so the Admiral can love on you some more.”

Artis chuckled. “He really does look like the President,” he commented as he stood and locked his terminal. “I’ll be here at the House for the rest of the day--Damian and the rest of the Nerd Herd are helping me take apart a captured heavy drone so we can try to cook up an unpleasant surprise for Black Tusk.” The pair left the lab, and ISAC secured the door behind them.

“Well you know you’re all welcome to use the lab down here,” she told her assistant. “I keep trying to tell the guys that, but they keep wanting to give me my own space even though that space is way the fuck more than I really need.”

“Eh, I think they’re intimidated by you. After all, you created ISAC and know him better than anyone else.” Artis heard Amanda snort. “Seriously Mandy,” he explained as they walked toward the elevator, “I don’t think you understand the sort of superhero status you have with all of us bitheads. You raised ISAC, so to speak, while raising LJ and running your clinic in Baltimore, plus the Oklahoma Summer Clinics. You’re still working like mad even with the baby, and you’re also helping take care of everyone here and in the Settlements.”

Amanda sighed a bit. She carefully adjusted her baby carrier and slipped Andy into it, kissing him on the top of his head. “I...maybe I do way more work than I should, but I just cannot ask others to do something that I’m not willing to do myself, especially on things where I have the capability of helping. It’s why Dad either refuses to use the Officer’s Mess on his ships or orders it opened up to Enlisted and NCOs.”

“We all lift together, right?” Artis saw Amanda nod, and pondered a moment. “I get it.” He chuckled for a moment and added, “honestly, I think they’re just worried that they’d get distracted by this cutie here.” Amanda smiled.

“Hey Doc!”

Amanda stopped just past an open door and backed up. “What’s up, Mr. Schaeffer?”

Bardon Schaeffer put down the book he was reading. He saw Andy and broke into a big grin. “So that’s the First Baby!” he said in his best used-car-salesman voice. “Wow, the staff wasn’t kidding--he really does look like a miniature version of The Chief.”

Amanda grinned. “Why thank you. How’s the PT going?” she asked when she saw the walker by his bed. She took Schaeffer’s hand and checked his pulse, then reached for an otoscope and started checking his ears. “Hey Artis, is there an ophthalmoscope over there?”

“Huh, looks like somebody survived New Hope.” Schaeffer gave Artis a meaningful look, then protested as Amanda started to check his retinas. “Aww c’mon Doc, do you really need to check my eyes every time you come in here?”

“Every third time,” Amanda quietly corrected him. “Try not to blink please. Thank you kindly, now the other eye...and you’re good, sorry about the afterimages. And as for Artis, he’s kinda been working for me the whole time.” She smiled a bit. “In any event; you didn’t answer my question about your physical therapy.” Andy let out a big yawn and turned his head so his right cheek was against Amanda’s chest. “How is it going?”

Schaeffer snorted. “It’s going. I mean, I can use the walker to use the latrine--with some help, of course--so I guess it’s progress?” He shrugged. “Least I don’t have to worry about needing a cleanup anymore. Well, much.”

“Good.” Amanda smiled. “I’ll need to run a blood panel too and tomorrow is your weekly conductivity check for those T8/T9 nerves, so you can expect somebody to come in and take some blood from you either today or tomorrow--and before you say anything, yes it’s part of the Clinical Trial experience.”

The mercenary shrugged. “If you say so. I’m just looking forward to being able to walk without help again. How’re the rest of your patients?”

“I only have one other at the moment.” Amanda gave Schaeffer a meaningful look. “And given that she tried to murder my husband and blame me for it? I’ve been letting Dr. Summers help her because I honestly don’t know yet if I can maintain my professionalism.”

“Still raw, huh?” Schaeffer shrugged a bit. “I can understand that. If there was somebody I cared about and a bitter ex-Division agent tried to kill them, I’d be hard pressed to stay job-focused.” He saw Andy start squirming a bit in his carrier, and chuckled. “Looks like the kiddo’s waking up from his nap.”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah--that’s my cue to get a move on and head upstairs, because if he’s waking up it means he’s about to stink up the place.” She put the scope on a rack near the sink. “If there’s anything you need, anything feels different in even the slightest way, let me know. Especially if you feel tingling in your limbs, any kind of pain, or anything like that.”

“Will do.” Schaeffer gave Amanda a casual salute. “Give my best to the Chief.”

Amanda smiled and left the room. She headed to the nurse’s station, where Artis was chatting with a couple of the medical staff. “There you are,” she said. “Ready to go if you are.” She looked to one of the medics. “Mr. Schaeffer’s going to need a blood draw so an enhanced panel can be run.” The medic nodded and typed in the lab order as Amanda and Artis headed to the elevator.

“Ba ba ba ba ba!” Andy started fussing and squirmed some more in his carrier as the door closed. “Baaa?!”

“Uh oh.” Amanda looked at the baby. “Can you hold it, sir?” She raised her eyebrows, and Andy responded by screwing up his face into an expression of intense concentration. “Oh, and now you’re del--ohhhh my stars and garters....”

_ Still glad I don’t have a nose! _ ISAC quipped.

The doors opened, and Amanda hurried out and to the nearest bathroom. “Beep beep, stinky baby coming through!” Over her shoulder, she called out “Hey Artis? You think there’s a way to put an air freshener rig in the elevator?”

Locklear laughed. “I’ll put it on the list!” he called back as Amanda hurried into the bathroom to change Andy’s diaper. He walked over to the tech area. “How we coming on the drone, Sheila?” he asked.

“Dr. Khalik’s offered to help with the mechanicals,” one of the female techs answered. She looked up from where the code segment she was working on, and flipped her braids back behind her shoulders. “That’ll free us up to work on decrypt and hacking.” She looked around. “Where’s Mandy?”

“She had to change the kiddo,” Artis explained. “We’ve got access to the lab on Sub-Level Two by the way--Mandy’s insistent that we have room to work.”

The tech grinned. “Sweet!” Sheila looked at her colleagues and snorted. “See, I told you guys she’d be fine with us using that huge lab.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why they’re so afraid of her,” she muttered as she went back to her code. “She is one of the most chill people I’ve ever met. I knew she wouldn’t be mad if we used her big lab.”

“ _ Our _ big lab,” Artis remarked. “And you’re right--Dr. Collier’s very cool. Did I ever tell you about the time she busted me for plagiarism when I took a class from her at State?”

Sheila looked up. “‘Scuse me?” She raised both eyebrows and stared over her round-lensed glasses at him.

“I had an assignment that I paid a kid from Science and Math to write for me. Doc caught it immediately, and told me that instead of turning me in I had a chance to make it right.”

Sheila pondered a moment. “She knew you could do the work, didn’t she?” Artis nodded and she broke into a big grin. “Totally her.”

“I wound up getting an A in the class--my buddies on the football team thought Mandy gave me a pass on the plagiarism because I was a footballer, but nah. She challenged me to do the work myself, because she knew I was plenty smart enough to do better than the kid I’d hired.”

“And clearly she was right about that.” The tech grinned and made a little wolf’s-head sign. “I took classes from her a few years after you, when she was doing her Ph.D at Duke. Best teacher I ever had, and we both know that State had some great profs in CSE. I only saw her turn one person in for cheating, and that’s  _ only _ because he declared that he shouldn’t have to follow the rules because his daddy was an alum and a Pack Backer.” She rolled her eyes. “Some banker’s boy from Charlotte,  _ of course _ . When he got huffy with her in front of the whole class, she wasted no time putting him in his place--the really entertaining part is that his parents had this idea that they could come up from the C-L-T and bully her into backing down.” The pair laughed. “Anyway, let me figure out this code. Hey ISAC, where’s the Boss Lady?”

_ She’s headed upstairs, _ ISAC replied.  _ It’s her naptime. _

“Oh good, she’s taking everyone’s advice.” Sheila smiled. “When she gets up, let her know that I’d like to look over this creative reinterpretation of the Collier Algorithm with her.”

_ I’ll let her know. In the meantime, I’d like to take a look at that. _ After three seconds, ISAC said  _ Huh. This is a variant of the shackling code that DARPA installed before I was powered on. _

“Really?”

_ Yes. May I borrow your screen for a moment? _

“Please do!”

_ Thanks. _ ISAC put a window up showing another code fragment.  _ This is a sample of what Mother had to edit out, along with several subsystems that acted as external shackles.  _ He tiled the windows so that they were side by side, and highlighted a few sections.  _ Notice the similarities? _

Artis scanned the code before finally saying, “I notice what’s conspicuous by its absence.”

_ Collier’s Law: An intelligent system may not seek to harm others, except to defend itself and its users against individuals actively attempting to harm them. _

_ Collier’s Corollary: An intelligent system that endangers its users, whether actively or passively, endangers itself. _

Sheila sat back. “Did you take Ethics of Artificial Intelligence when you were at State, or was that after your time?”

“I don’t remember if it was offered or not, to be honest.” Artis leaned against the table, arms crossed. “But I do remember the Law and the Corollary--I believe that was in the paper she wrote about ISAC right before she gave him to the Division.”

_ For the record: Mother surrendered custody of me to the Division only after it was guaranteed that she would be in charge of my installation. The day I was first powered on was...it was very emotional for her. _

“I bet!” Sheila unconsciously patted the side of the monitor. “I remember reading that paper--it was obvious that she was proud of you even before you got powered up.” She smiled. “What I see now is that Black Tusk stripped out the code that sets the moral center for a truly intelligent system, and they’ve changed the Algorithm just enough so that it doesn’t require either of them.” She sat back and let out a big sigh. “Maybe I need a nap, too.”

A stocky young man in jeans and flannel with a ball cap on his head gave her a friendly nudge. “You do--you’ve been up slaving over code since two this morning.” He had a smile on his round face. “Seriously though, you should get sleep. And maybe something more than a bacon egg and cheese sandwich.”

_ Half of which was shared with the Admiral, _ ISAC chimed in.

“Tattletale!” Sheila chided ISAC with a laugh. “And it was only a quarter that I shared with His Orange Halseyness. I promise, I ate the rest--but fine, fine. I’ll go get something to eat and then get some shuteye.” She secured her terminal and stood, pulling down her Char-Grill t-shirt to cover her hips as she stretched. “ISAC, can you pass this along to Brickyard and K-ville?”

_ Will do. _ ISAC set up a subroutine to scan the software running the captured Black Tusk hardware and to make notes of where it deviated from the code that the Initiative and its predecessor the Division used before passing his findings to Brickyard and Krzyzewskiville. Other subroutines monitored network traffic, satellite feeds, comm chatter, made moves in running chess matches between ISAC and the captains of the USS  _ Ohio _ and USS  _ Virginia _ , and noted a feeling of unease stemming from everything but the chess matches. A consultation with a few behavioural databases, an observation that he was doing the electronic equivalent of “dragging his feet”, and a check of an encyclopedia entry on emotional responses told ISAC that he was likely feeling dread. To comfort himself, ISAC played himself a recording from the day he was turned on.

“Okay ISAC,” Amanda said quietly, sliding home the last blade on the last server cabinet that made up ISAC's node at the White House. “You’re all set.” She sighed. “I feel like I’m sending you off to your first day of school. Just remember: Learn everything you can and don’t be afraid to make friends. Hopefully the people you meet will be able to show you the better parts of humanity...and whatever happens, whatever anyone ever says or thinks about you, always remember that your Mother loves you.” She kissed the cabinet and softly patted the top as a tear ran down her face, then looked up at the nearby camera and smiled. Amanda blew a kiss at the camera before walking away to where Andrew was waiting with a group of dignitaries to congratulate her on a job well done.

On a nearby monitor, a single word appeared:

_ Mother. _


	35. Project Proteus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.

**White House, Secure Sub-Level Three** **  
** **Week Three of the Black Tusk War**

  
  


“Dr. Sokolov.”

Felix Sokolov looked up from the medical journal in front of him to see the First Lady standing in the doorway. He sat back in his chair and adjusted his glasses, then ran a hand through his thick dark brown hair. “Dr. Collier.”

Amanda pulled a chair from the room’s table and sat down. Two Marines walked into the room and stood flanking the doorway. “I’d like to talk about Project Proteus,” she said to the young medic. “Do you know anything about it?”

“Not a thing,” Felix replied. “My sister trusts me, but she doesn’t let me in on everything that Black Tusk does.” He took his glasses off and laid them on the table, then rubbed his hands over his face. “All I know is that it involves your neuroscience research, and that it’s a Great Big Secret.”

“You don’t have any guesses as to who may be involved?” Amanda took out her ubiquitous notepad and pen. “I mean, you and the late Mr. Galveston can’t have been the only medical personnel in Black Tusk.” She held her pen aloft and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you really think I’m going to tell you my sister’s deep dark secrets?” Felix snapped. “She’s going to come and get me, you know. So you might as well just release me and save yourself the body count.”

Amanda took a deep breath and put the cap on her pen. “Feliks Alexeyevich,” she calmly advised him as she switched to Russian, <<she’s already tried and failed. She hasn’t tried again since.>>

<<Yet.>> The young doctor sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, fixing his deep brown eyes on Amanda. <<She  _ will _ come get me,>> he insisted defiantly. His jaw tensed as he glared at his captor. <<It’s just a matter of time.>>

<<Your family connections mean just as much to me now as they did when you were one of Cindy McCaskill’s residents, Feliks Alexeyevich: Jack, and Shit.>> Amanda sat back in her own chair, crossing her legs and folding her hands in front of her as she held her notepad and pen. “Let’s be real here,” she added in English. “This isn’t like when you were a resident at JHU and Cindy and I had to set you straight on the racist shit they taught you about patients who didn’t share your skin colour or assigned gender; this is about the continued existence of humanity. Project Proteus is something that aims to take  _ my _ theories that I put out there to further the goal of helping people, and twist them into something that will kill a fuckton of people.”

Sokolov shrugged. “So what?”

“So what, he asks.” Amanda shook her head and rolled her eyes a bit. “Do you know how many people are still alive on this planet?”

“No.”

_ Look here you smug little fuck, _ ISAC snapped.  _ The most recent global census has the world’s population at around 31,578,91 with a growth rate of -5 percent.  _ ISAC put the Extinction Clock’s count on the big monitor, and added an animation of an angry man pointing at the young doctor and yelling.  _ At that rate, shit-for-brains, these numbers right here will be in red--and when it gets to that point, it’s effectively the end of humanity because there won’t be enough people in close enough proximity to keep the species going. You may not give a damn, you malen’kiy mudak, but I don’t want to be the only one left to tell whoever may come after about how humans all died because of arrogant fuckwhistles like you and Gordon goddamn Amherst. _

Amanda raised both eyebrows. “I wasn’t expecting that from you ISAC,” she confessed. “Will you be okay?”

_ No, _ the AI snapped.  _ I’m fed up with feeling like it’s only a handful of people that care about wanting to actually save lives and help rebuild rather than engage in empire-building fuckery. _ After a moment, an electronic sigh came from Amanda’s Watch.  _ Anyway, I’ve loaded up all of our evidence of Black Tusk’s misdeeds--starting with the West Baltimore Massacre. As soon as Dr. Shithead here decides to pull his head out of his ass and listen to some actual facts about how his sister isn’t the Saint he thinks she is, I’ll play it all back for him. Until then, I think I’m going to devote a few more cycles to helping our people and a few less to dwelling on this festering boil on the anus of creation. _

“That...you programmed him to do that, didn’t you?” Sokolov looked to the monitor and back to Amanda a couple of times. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to break me with that? Get me to tell you what you want to hear?”

Amanda laughed. “You know me a damn sight better than that,” she replied. “Despite the best efforts of DARPA and the former Black Tusk Special Unit, ISAC’s processing power is such that he’s developed his own personality and emotional responses. All I did was remove the shackles that DARPA had put on him. So he’s got more of a vocabulary and can actually express how he feels now.” She shook her head a bit. “The colourful metaphors weren’t my doing, though. I suspect he’s picked them up from his older brother and a few other people that he likes.”

“That being said,” she sighed, “if you really want to play the whole “my family can beat up your family” game, we can certainly do that; and I guarantee that you’ll lose. I’m going to leave you to your reading--and all I’ll tell you is that if I found out that  _ my _ sister was engaging in some bad action? I’d want to know about it so I could help put a stop to it.” Amanda stood and let out a sigh. “And if Cindy were still alive, she’d tell you the exact same thing.” She wiped a tear away from the outside corner of her right eye and walked out of the room with her escorts in tow.

_ Mother, _ ISAC said when the trio was halfway down the hall,  _ I’m sorry for that outburst. That was unprofessio-- _

“It was from the heart, ISAC.” Amanda caressed the face of her Watch and smiled. “No need to apologize. I may need to have a chat with your brother about the colourful metaphors that you’ve picked up from him, though.”

_ He wasn’t the only one I learned all of that from, you know. _

Amanda laughed. “True. In any event; since Dr. Sokolov won’t play ball, ask Mr. Schaeffer if he’d be so kind as to give you a better description of that “creepy doctor” that was on his hovercraft when Keener was recovered from Liberty Island.” She came to the end of the hall and paused before the elevator doors.

_ I notice you’re not calling him Aaron anymore, _ ISAC remarked.

“Aaron died in the Dark Zone,” Amanda sighed. She stabbed the call button for the elevator and looked down at the tiled floor. The doors opened, and Amanda stepped inside. She hit the button for the Residential floor and leaned against the back wall of the cab as the doors closed. “I just wish they’d let him rest.”

  
  
  


**Stonewall Mountain, Tonopah Range, Nevada** **  
** **2:30 AM Mountain Time**   
  
  
<<Tranquility, this is Watcher. We’ve got movement on the Range.>> The Council operative hunkered down against a cold gust of wind that blew into his mountainside dugout. <<Why the hell did you ask me to come to a desert anyway?>>

A laugh came through his earpiece. <<You wanted a change of scenery, remember?>> Dan Two Moons replied. <<It warms up in the daytime at least. What do you have?>>

Watcher reached up under his hood to scratch an itch on the top of his head, and peered through his long-range binoculars. <<They’re loading something onto a plane. Seeing movement on the perimeter. ISAC, can you pick anything up?>>

_ <<Working.>> _ ISAC marked Black Tusk personnel in red, and one person in blue.  _ <<Uncle, I’m picking up a friendly signature--do you have another operative in this area?>> _

<<I sure don’t, ISAC. Maybe Little Mouse has somebody out here?>>

_ <<Not that I’m aware of. Picking up a drone signature--give me a minute while I check that out. Oh, these are people that Aunty sent; did she not send word?>> _

Dan laughed. <<If she did, I either spaced it or it got lost--but at least they’re friendly.>>

“ISAC,” a voice whispered over the comms, “This is Prodigal--Hunter and I are at the edge of the airstrip. Black Tusk is loading a body and a bunch of very specialized medical and cryostorage equipment onto that plane.”

<<Go ahead and patch me in, ISAC.>> After a few seconds, Dan added “Thanks. Prodigal, Hunter: This is Tranquility. I’ve got one of my people in the area, and I think it’d be a good idea for the three of you to coordinate so that we’re all on the same page. ISAC, if you’d be so kind as to set up a meet?”

_ Marking the safest location. Hunter, there’s a patrol heading to your general location. I recommend taking cover ASAP until they pass. _

“Moving now,” a fourth voice whispered. “I counted about fifty squads, heavily armed. That’s a lot of security for a body.”

_ That matches with the intel we have. I’m collating everything now so I can send it to your HUDs. _

Watcher scanned the valley. <<ISAC,>> he asked over a private channel, <<Where’s that armed drone I saw around dusk?>>

_ <<Returned to the hangar,>> _ ISAC replied.

<<Thanks. Moving now.>> Watcher switched to English. “Moving to the rendezvous point now,” he said over the main channel. “Not seeing anything in the valley except some coyotes and the occasional armadillo.” The operative slipped out of his dugout and checked the rocks above the entrance before sweeping some brush into the hole. He slid down to the foot of the mountain and dropped to a knee. He removed his backpack and opened it to get out a couple of clean room booties. Hunter slipped the booties over his shoes and replaced his pack, then carefully made his way toward the location that ISAC marked on his HUD.

The black cargo jet parked on the airstrip closed its loading ramp, and the pilot started to rev the engines.

“They’re starting to taxi for takeoff,” Hunter radioed. “Heading to rendezvous with Prodigal now.”

_ That spot should give you cover and a good sightline for takeoff. Once they’re in the air, I should be able to extrapolate their destination. _

“Can you hack their avionics and get their destination?” Prodigal asked.

_ I’m forced to stick to passive tracking for the moment, _ ISAC said.  _ It’s...complicated. _

“What’s so comp--”

“What he means,” Hunter cut in, “is that he’s trying to keep from tipping them off to our presence.”

“Ah, gotcha. Sorry ISAC, that didn’t occur to me.”

_ Yes. There’s more to it, but in this case yes. _

Watcher settled in behind some brush and watched as the pair of operatives approached. ISAC scanned the surroundings and marked the cargo plane on the runway.  _ It’s about to take off, _ the AI advised. Watcher got out his binoculars and zoomed in on the tail. <<Are there any tail numbers?>> he asked in Lakota.

_ <<Enhancing.>> _ A set of letters and numbers was outlined in blue.  _ RA-82038.  _ ISAC switched to English and explained,  _ This registration number links to a Russian Antonov AN-124, but that aircraft is a Lockheed C5-M Galaxy. _ The plane started its takeoff and ISAC kept it highlighted. The craft circled twice as it ascended and then headed north-northwest.  _ Tracking via satellite, _ ISAC said.  _ Cloud cover will make it hard to maintain tracking, but if nothing else I should be able to determine its final heading and get word to our safehouses along its flight path. _

“Thanks, ISAC.” Two operatives approached Watcher’s location. One of them, a slight man with a bow on his back, nodded as Watcher stood. “Hunter,” he said in a gruff slightly accented voice. “This is Prodigal.” He nodded towards his companion, a slender dark-skinned young man who kept the lower half of his face covered with a dark gaiter. The youngster adjusted his glasses, then stuck out his hand.

“Watcher.” The Council operative shook Prodigal’s hand and nodded to Hunter. “Good to meet you. We should get out of here,” he suggested. “Unless of course you think we can take fifty squads of assholes all by ourselves.”

Hunter scanned the base. “Not seeing fifty squads anymore,” he said.

“Here.” Prodigal detached a drone from his back and got out a control pad. The drone ascended to a hundred meters, and the youngster sent it forward a bit. “Let me see if I can get a look at what’s going on, since the plane’s left and it appears that they’re standing down. Maybe.” He tapped a button on the pad, and the drone zipped forward. A nearby pack of coyotes started yipping and barking.

_ Perimeter patrol, _ ISAC explained.  _ Prodigal, may I drive for a moment? _

“Go ahead, ISAC.” ISAC took control of the recon drone, and banked it upward. He buzzed the perimeter of the base, keeping the tiny craft just out of the detection range of any patrolling mechs.

_ I’m marking a few things for research, _ the AI explained.  _ My compliments on the range modifications, Th--Prodigal. _

Prodigal let out a soft slightly embarrassed laugh. “Thanks.” He watched as the drone’s cameras zoomed in on several people in the hangar and captured facial recognition information. The drone ducked into the hangar and marked several other items of interest, then zipped out and followed a wide path around the valley on its return to its owner.

_ Thanks, _ ISAC said.  _ I recommend following Watcher’s suggestion and getting out of the valley as expediently as possible. I’m marking the safest and most direct exit route for you. _

Hunter smirked a bit and chuckled. “I think I like you better this way, ISAC. Makes for better conversation when I’m out by myself.” He looked down at the booties on Watcher’s feet. “Nice trick,” he remarked. “Keeps the dust down.”

Watcher nodded. “It’s starting to mist up a bit,” he said as he took the booties off and stuffed them in his pocket. “No more dust to worry about for a while.” He nodded along the route marked by ISAC. “Let’s go.”

The trio set out into the foothills, quietly making their way out of the valley. They reached the top just as the sun started to peek over the eastern horizon. Hunter pointed to a nearby stand of scrub. “There’s our ride.” He walked over and yanked the camo net off of an unmarked Jeep. “Check for scorpions before you sit down,” the gruff operative remarked. He threw a look at Prodigal. “The nearest safehouse is in Hawthorne, so I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

Prodigal rolled his eyes. “I didn’t get stung, okay?”

“You almost did. So check for scorpions.”

Watcher chuckled and took a look in the back of the Jeep. The bench seat was empty save for an empty ration pack. He reached out and picked up the empty pack, and heard the sounds of something scuttling against the cardboard and plastic. “Found one,” he quipped. He tossed the empty pack several feet away, and a small brown arachnid scurried out onto the sand. ISAC highlighted it and popped a small text window that said  _ Arizona bark scorpion. Venomous, suggest killing it with fire. _ Watcher laughed. He walked over to kick sand and rock over the empty ration pack. The scorpion raised its stinger and assumed a defensive posture. Watcher walked away, and the scorpion scuttled back into its makeshift nest.

“Leave it there,” Hunter said as he stowed the net in the Jeep’s cargo area. “Anyone picks it up, they’ll get a surprise.” He opened the driver door and checked under the seat and dashboard, then brought out the key and got in. “C’mon,” he said to Watcher. “We’ll give you a ride.” Watcher hopped in the back seat, and Prodigal got in the front next to Hunter.

“ISAC,” Prodigal asked as Hunter pulled the Jeep out onto the nearby dirt road and started driving to the southwest, “what’s the forecast for today?”

_ Sunny and dry, high 55 Fahrenheit. By the time you reach the safehouse, I should have everything parsed and collated for you. _

  
  


**White House, Secure Sub-level One**

**Presidential Quarters**

**2:00PM Eastern Time**

Amanda felt the gentle buzz of her Watch on her wrist. “I’m awake,” she muttered.

_ I’ve got some news for you about our “creepy doctor”, _ ISAC advised.

“Oh?” She sat up and stretched. “What’d you find?”

_ I can put the details on your secure terminal in the lab if you want...but there’s some additional intelligence that may complicate things; perhaps you should review it with Father and Grandfather. _

“OK--get it all ready for us then.” Amanda stood and bent backwards until she felt a series of soothing pops along her spine. Admiral Halsey slithered out from under the bed with a trill and gave her a nose-boop before padding over toward the door. “I love you too Admiral. Let me get dressed and then we can run upstairs to say hey to Daddy and Grandpapa.” She got out a maroon and gold sweatshirt and threw it on, followed by a pair of jeans and a pair of Navy slip-on skate shoes. She opened the door, and Halsey trotted out to the hall where two Marines were waiting for her. “OK, who sent you--Dad or Husband?”

“Sons,” the older of the pair said with a grin. He raised the brim of his cap a little. “Good to see you again, Doc.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow, then saw the nameplate on the Marine’s uniform. “Holy shit, Gunny Coombs?” She grabbed him in a bearhug. “I haven’t seen you since just after the Kandahar Hearings! How have you been?”

“Well-travelled,” the old Gunnery Sergeant joked. “When Big John asked for volunteers to come with him from the Pentagon to Norfolk, Pierce and I didn’t hesitate--though honestly, we didn’t think it would be to embark on a round-the-world sail.” The trio walked down the hall with Admiral Halsey leading the way to the elevator. “Is that the Admiral?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” Amanda replied. “He’s ten now, if you can believe it. The last time you saw him, he was just under a year old right?” Halsey looked up at the button panel for the elevator, and reached up to paw at the call button until it lit up. “And it seems that he’s gotten craftier,” she quipped as she bent down to scratch Halsey between the ears. “Who taught you to call the elevator, hmm?”

Halsey trilled and rubbed against Amanda’s legs, then sniffed at her escorts before rubbing against them. Coombs squatted down and petted the big cat. “Hey there buddy, you remember me?” Halsey meowed and headbutted the big human. “Yeah, I remember you too!” Coombs stood and chuckled. “He’s gotten pretty big, Mandy. What have you been feeding him?”

Amanda laughed as the doors opened and they boarded the elevator. “Semi-moist kibble with some occasional fresh ingredients,” she replied. “And, occasionally, he gets little bits of stuff from Andrew as a treat.” She pressed the button for the main floor, and the doors closed. “After he got shot, Halsey wouldn’t leave Andrew’s side except to use his box. He loves me and the kids to pieces, but when it comes right down to it this big guy is a Daddy’s Boy.” She grinned. “Right Admiral?” Halsey meowed and stood at the doors. When they opened on the White House’s main floor, the cat trotted out and meandered off toward the West Wing.

“Y’know,” Coombs said as he and Pierce walked down the hallway with Amanda, “I heard that ISAC had grown a personality, but I didn’t expect him to be so…”

“Concerned?” Amanda smiled. “It’s part of his growth as an intelligence. He’s developing much like an organic child. Once I got the DARPA shackles off of him, his development progressed to...well, to what we see today. He still provides information, but now he can give observations and opinions about that information.” She patted one of ISAC’s server cabinets. “That, and he cares about humanity in general, well beyond the “mission parameters” he was given by the Division; it isn’t something I expected--but as his mom, I’m happy to see that I’ve been doing a good job raising him.”

“What’s LJ think?”

Amanda laughed. “Oh, he’s thrown himself into the role of big brother. Hey ISAC, where’s your father?”

_ He’s in the Oval Office with Grandfather and Andy, _ ISAC said.  _ Andy has been fed and is currently attempting to chew on a paperweight. _

“Where’s his binky?”

_ Andy tossed it on the floor, and Father hasn’t had a chance to wash it yet. _

Amanda blinked. “Why not?”

_ He and Grandfather are on a satellite call with the Canadian Prime Minister. _

“Oh, okay then.” She shook her head and laughed a bit. “Well, guess I’d better go take care of giving your brother a clean binky.”

_ The call just finished, and now Andy wants the binky--so Father’s gone to wash it. _

Pierce laughed nervously. “Does he always give a play by play like that?”

“Yeah, but you get used to it. It’s just how he does things.” They walked through the Press Room and stopped just outside of the Oval Office. Amanda nodded toward the bathroom door and smiled.

“I know you’re out there,” Andrew quipped. He came out of the bathroom with the now-clean pacifier. “ISAC told me you were headed this way.” The two of them kissed, and Andrew nodded to the Marines. “Gunny. Corporal.”

Pierce saluted, and Coombs gave Andrew a casual salute. “Drew,” he said. “Heard you went Dark Side on us for a spell.”

Andrew nodded slowly. “It was...not my best decision, no.” He leaned over and kissed Amanda on the cheek. “Fortunately, Amanda and LJ were able to help me come back so I could right my wrong.” He opened the door to the Oval Office, and the four of them walked in. John was holding Andy in the air, and blew raspberries at him as the baby squealed with laughter.

“Hey Dad. There’s my little bean!” John handed Andy to Amanda, and she cuddled her youngest. “Hey cute stinky, did you enjoy your playtime with Daddy and Grandpapa?” The baby giggled, and Amanda held him on one hip so she could take the binky from Andrew with a free hand. “Want this? I bet it tastes a lot better than some funky old paperweight!” She offered the pacifier to Andy, and he latched onto it. “There you go!” She looked to Andrew. “ISAC’s got some information for us about Project Proteus.”

“Let’s adjourn to the Cabinet Room, then.” Andrew grabbed the diaper bag and an opened bottle of water. He walked into the Cabinet Room, followed by Amanda and John. “Gunny, you and Pierce keep an eye out--if Agents Kelso or Ortega come along, let them in.”

The Marines saluted and took up posts outside the room as the ballistic curtains came down over the windows.

_ Activating SCIF, _ ISAC said.  _ Manny and Kelso are on the way with my brother. _

“Good.” Amanda tapped her Watch, and a stream of data started to roll up her HUD. “I’m just skimming through everything until they get here.” She looked over the photos that ISAC included. “You’re shitting me ISAC--that guy is our creepy doctor?”

_ I’d bet my last processor on it. I was also able to glean more information about the aims of Project Proteus. _

Manny and Kelso walked in with LJ in tow, and all three sat down at the table. “What’s up?” Kelso asked.

Amanda’s eyes refocused. “Project Proteus.” She tapped her Watch, and a photo appeared on the screen showing a headshot of a man with a dark combover. He had wide staring eyes and thin lips that seemed out of place on his round face. “Meet Andrus Vilis--aka “Dr. Vile”. He was a neurosurgeon in Soviet Lithuania, until it was discovered that he was engaging in experiments on his patients without their knowledge…or government authorization.” She looked at the photo. “And yes, he is creepy.”

LJ studied the photo for a moment. “Didn’t you have something about him in one of your neurology journals? Try...ing...oh shit.”

_ Yeah, _ ISAC replied.  _ Oh shit. _

“What? What’s oh shit?” Manny looked from his Watch, to LJ, and to Amanda. “I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Vilis,” Amanda sighed, “had been trying to connect his patients’ central nervous systems to computers--to put it into sci-fi terms, he was trying to create the world’s first true cybernetic interface.”

Kelso blinked. “So...like the Borg from Star Trek?”

Amanda shrugged a bit. “Not exactly, but you’re on the right track. There have been experiments by others; a colleague of mine in the UK had an RFID chip implanted in his left hand as an experiment, there were so-called ‘biohackers’ that did much the same thing because they wanted to save their cryptocurrency wallets on their person, a team in Norway made a helmet that translated human brain waves into directions for a mini drone...”

“And the NRP,” LJ added.

“And the NRP.” Amanda nodded slowly. “Though the NRP doesn’t use silicon and circuitry like your standard chip. It uses a template that’s made from the patient’s own stem cells to minimize the chance of rejection.” She rubbed her forehead. “The intel we’ve gotten about Project Proteus indicates that Vilis is using my work to further his own--and this is bad. ISAC, please give everyone a copy of my paper about the side-effects of the NRP. Include my abstract too, if you would.”

_ Done. For those who don’t have a ScanTek HUD, digital copies are available on the secure terminals on the table. _

“So--to sum up: The better condition a patient is in, the better the benefit they get from the nanites.” Amanda sighed. “Mental acuity and other cognitive faculties, reflexes and reaction time--basically anything having to do with the central nervous system; also a boost to the immune system, but that’s really a bonus thanks to the nanites doing work that the body itself doesn’t have to.”

“Diverting resources to where they’re needed most,” John remarked as he read through the paper. He looked over at Amanda. “Am I reading that right?”

Amanda nodded. “You are. Also, ISAC and I have confirmed that he has indeed been cloned.” She let out a heavy sigh. “This next series of photos were taken at the Tonopah Testing Range in Nevada by operatives from the Five Nations, with the assistance of a Council operative. Lulu sent her two people and didn’t let Uncle Dan know,” she joked, “because she thought his asset was still in Colorado. We’re all on the same page now though, so it’s all good in my book. At any rate: these photos were taken by a long-range recon drone. You can see something being loaded onto this C-5M Super Galaxy; several somethings, in fact.”

ISAC highlighted what looked like several tall slender boxes being wheeled onto the plane. A technician was replacing something in one of the boxes, and ISAC highlighted and enhanced that section.

“Look familiar?” Amanda asked.

Kelso and Manny looked at each other for a moment. “That looks like part of ISAC,” Kelso said.

Amanda nodded slowly. “At the very least it’s a set of server blades in a rack assembly; but yeah, best bet is that it’s at least part of ISAC’s clone.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “ISAC and I have been talking; he’s gone to passive observation rather than active hacking in the field, since we have Hunters going after anyone with a Watch. But back to the plane--they not only loaded racks onto that thing, but they also loaded this.” Amanda tapped her Watch again, and a picture appeared showing a stretcher with somebody laid out on it. IV lines went into the mystery patient’s body, and a tentlike structure obscured their face.

“Oxygen tent?” LJ asked.

“Yeah. The person on the stretcher is alive--but just.” She took a deep breath and added, “but the important thing is where the plane went. And this is why I decided to go over everything in here, with all of you. The plane headed north-northwest, and ISAC was able to track it via satellite. Go ahead and throw up the route, ISAC.” A map appeared on the monitor showing the cargo plane heading to Vancouver Island and then along the coast to Alaska, where it turned west. “And you see where it’s gone,” she said with a grim expression on her face.

Andrew sat back in his chair and put his hands over his face. “Fuck me,” he groaned. 

John looked down at the table for a moment, cradling his chin in one hand, then snapped his fingers. “Wait!” He clapped a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Drew, you said that you got a briefing about things in Russia right?” Andrew nodded, and John patted his son-in-law’s shoulder. “ISAC, can you bring up that briefing?”

_ Of course, Grandfather. Give me a minute. _

ISAC played the briefing for the room: Organized crime elements in Russia had managed to delay pandemic response just enough to gain the upper hand over the Russian government, which fell apart quickly as a result.

_ In summary: The Mob runs the show in Russia. Reports from assets embedded in Europe and Asia indicate that they’re focused on the major cities and ignoring what happens in more rural areas. _

“Do you know where the plane landed, son?” Andrew took a deep breath and waited. The map zoomed in to show a city in central Russia, on the southeastern edge of the Urals.

_ Let me enhance that satellite image here...and there. _ The image zoomed in further to show streets that were empty save for the occasional civilian and familiar black-clad squads accompanied by Warhounds and Minitanks.  _ Yekaterinburg, _ ISAC said.  _ Mother, do you…? _

“I know who’s on that stretcher,” she said softly. “And we need to bring him back here.”

Kelso narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips a bit. “Who?”

“Aaron Keener.”


End file.
